The Rangers of Apollo
by LostAndLonging
Summary: All his life, Will thought his father was a hero; that he'd been a military officer killed in a skirmish in Iraq. After being attacked by a hellhound and brought to a strange camp called Camp Half-Blood, Will discovers everything he knew was a lie. Rising trouble endangers not only the demigods but the entire world, and Will is somehow trapped in the middle.
1. Chapter 1

All his life, only one question had burned inside his mind, consuming practically every waking day, hour, moment. All his life, he'd only wanted to have one answer. He'd only ever wanted to know one thing.

 _Who am I?_

His name was Will. Just Will. Will No-Name. He didn't have a last name; didn't have a mother or a father. Will just...was. He had no family, no friends, no future. He had faint memories of a worn note, but that was it.

 _His mother died in childbirth,_ it had read, _his father died a hero. His name is Will._

And so it was. He was Will. No last name, no middle name. No parents. No home. He wandered the streets, using his natural swiftness to steal whatever needed to keep him alive. Over the years, Will had developed a certain knack for hiding; he'd learned to time his movements to the flickering shadows at sunset, to pass through crowds unnoticed, to run over asphalt unheard. This skill had allowed him to keep himself alive in the slums of New York City, along with causing plenty of mischief whenever Will felt like it.

Existential thoughts aside, it was just after midday. Will had just nabbed a pretzel from a street vendor whose back was turned, slipping down the street and mingling in with passerbys in case the man should notice. As Will munched, he pondered for what seemed the thousandth time about what his real last name might be. Smith seemed too normal; Albertaine was a bit far-fetched. Over the lonely years, Will had made up a game with himself to find the most ridiculous last name possible each week. With two days left before the week turned into the next, Will had decided on the winner: he'd heard a man introduce himself as Al Kohalic.

Will continued walking down the street, entering the slums where he lived. The houses were dingy, but carried with them an air of familiarity that made Will's shoulders drop a little in relief. Although he'd never own a house there, he had managed to find a fairly sheltered spot in the back of someone's house that granted Will safety from rain and snow. The owner of the house knew about Will but didn't seem to care, even giving him a bit of food on holidays.

Two huge, yet ill-fed, teenagers stepped out in front of Will before he could get to the house. Ah, yes. Tim and Charles: two residents of the neighborhood that had hated Will since he'd moved his residence to there a year and a half ago.

"I thought we told you never to come back," Tim said with an ugly sneer.

Will just shrugged, not intimidated. He'd faced worse than two sixteen-year-olds. "I guess you thought wrong."

"You know what we told you," Tim continued, cracking his knuckles in a showy sort of way. "If we ever saw your face again, we'd beat you until you don't even have a face anymore!"

"I'm not sure that's possible," Will muttered. "You'd have to go to quite a bit of effort to take the entirety of my face off, and I'm not sure you're capable of that."

"You calling us lazy!?" Charles snarled. "We'll get you for that!"

Charles lumbered forward, but Will had had years of practice dealing with this sort of thing. He nimbly dodged the heavy, clumsy blows from both Charles and Tim, maneuvered behind them, and sprinted away. A year ago he might've fought back, but Will wasn't that sort of person anymore. He'd learned the hard way that you never knew how many enemies there were, or when he'd get ambushed while injured. Although it was tempting to get them back for the way they'd treated Will, he knew that it could backfire on him badly if he made a careless mistake and got hurt.

"Yeah, run away! Just run away, you coward! Run, Will No-Name!"

Will's mouth tightened but he gave no response. Out of all the insults that had been flung his way, the last was the most painful. Everyone he'd ever met had had a last name. Tim's was Halcin. Charles's was Mig. Every single person he'd ever met had a last name. So why not Will?

But he'd thought enough about that. He'd wondered about it his entire life, and although he hated not knowing, he knew that thinking about it would only drag him down. So he shoved the thoughts, the questions, away and kept running. He ran straight up to the house in front of his living area, ran straight around, and dove gratefully into the small, enclosed recess behind the house that was his living space.

The entire house was fenced by overgrown bushes, and it was into this that Will dove. At their tallest, the bushes were practically chest-high (at least for someone as short as Will). An overhanging roof created a dark patch that the shrubs couldn't grow in, resulting in a small, sheltered semicircle hidden from view and nigh-impenetrable. Will sat in his small ring of safety, eating the last remains of his pretzel. He couldn't honestly remember the last time he'd had a decent meal; even when he'd been in the orphanage, the little food they gave Will could never truly be called a 'meal.' Will's stomach was constantly cramped from hunger pains as were most of his muscles; another reason he hadn't wanted to fight Tim and Charles.

Even though it was only midday, Will was exhausted. He generally was; poor feeding his entire life had the wonderful side effect of making him tired 24/7. So, after double, then triple, checking that he was completely alone, Will slowly drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The distinct feeling of being watched was what woke Will up. He jerked automatically to standing, fading into the darkness of the overhanging and scanning the shrubbery and trees around him for danger. When a swift search revealed nothing, he searched again. And again.

After coming up empty for the fourth time, Will bit his lip, eyes flicking up to the rapidly gathering dusk. He knew he was being watched. He'd been attacked too many times to have forgotten that feeling. So what was it that could see him, yet couldn't be seen itself?

 _What if it's..._ **that?**

Will shook his head, and with it, shook the thought away. _No, that's impossible. I haven't encountered one of those things for months._ But even as he tried to convince himself, he knew it very well could be that- one of the variety of strange, inhuman creatures that had plagued Will since birth. Although he'd never encountered a creature that was invisible, after being attacked by donkey-women and bull-men, Will knew it probably wasn't out of the realm of possibility.

Will cautiously glanced around once more. Still nothing. Not for the first time Will wished he had an actual weapon- something a little more lethal than just his fists. Since he couldn't see his opponent, he was completely defenseless and open for an attack.

Then all of a sudden Will heard something like claws scratching against earth. He turned towards the sound, bracing his arms for an impact...but nothing happened.

Will scooted a little further into his shelter. The shadows were heightening with every minute, and within a half-hour Will knew it'd be almost pitch-black since the house they were behind had no electricity. Another scratching sound. Before Will could even react, a huge form bounded from the shadows and came straight for Will, red eyes gleaming evilly.

For a moment, Will froze. The monster coming straight towards him was _huge-_ a black dog as big as a grizzly bear. It had rough, shaggy fur and sharp teeth that glinted palely in the fading light. Out of the many terrifying creatures Will had seen, this one was one of the scariest. It projected an aura of despair and gloom, like nothing really mattered anymore- like it'd be better to just lay down and die.

A claw tore into Will's shoulder, shocking him out of his momentary paralysis. He managed to dodge the next attack, but the huge dog kept coming. Will kept dodging, but only barely; every time, the huge monster's claws or teeth would tear into Will, barely missing his neck or his heart. And every time Will dodged, it would fade back into the shadows again, making it extremely hard to track.

The dog charged again. Will was backed into a corner, already bleeding profusely from his shoulder. He knew there was no way he could outrun this thing like he had with the donkey-woman. He knew he was too badly injured to use the thing's momentum against it like he had with the bull-man. The thought of dying wasn't one that particularly scared Will. He'd really had nothing to live for his entire life; why should the thought of dying really matter?

But nevertheless, his body refused to give up. As the beast neared him, something white-hot and searing sprang to life inside Will's chest. Screaming in agony, he put out his hands in front of him, instinctively trying to channel it out.

And out it came, in the form of a searing, white-hot blast that momentarily threw the surrounding landscape into sharp contrast and charred the huge dog's fur. With a howl, the dog backed up, pacing back and forth as it regarded Will. It seemed to be contemplating what the best course of action would be. Will sincerely hoped it would decide to turn tail and flee, but as it growled and came towards him again, he had a sinking feeling that that was not to be.

Will put out his hands again, but this time the burning energy wouldn't come. It wasn't surprising, seeing how nothing like that had ever happened to him before, but Will couldn't prevent the sinking in his chest as he realized that the one weapon he'd had was gone.

The beast reared on its hind legs, closing in for the final blow.

Then a dark figure moved in the corner of Will's eye and the dog howled in agony, dropping down to all fours and turning to face the threat. But that was never to happen. More movement flickered and the sound of something being stabbed met Will's ears. Will watched with unbelieving eyes as a dark, robed figure with a sword as dark as the night singlehandedly slew the beast that had almost killed Will.

The monster let loose a final, mournful bark, before slumping to the ground. Even as it slumped, its body began to disintegrate into dust; a common phenomenon Will had observed with the few monsters he'd actually managed to kill. The dark figure sheathed its sword and turned to Will. It pulled back its hood, revealing what looked like a dark-haired, tan-skinned teenage boy around Will's age, maybe a little older.

"You look a little beat up," the boy said with a bit of an Irish accent. "You are a demigod, right?"

"A what?" Will asked. Then, as if his one question had opened the floodgates, he continued, "Who are you? What was that thing? Why was it attacking me? How did you kill it so easily? Are you some sort of vigilante?"

The boy raised one eyebrow. "You don't know what demigods are?"

Will gave him a blank look.

"Oh, dear." The boy hesitated, then snapped his fingers. "Hide me." Something like swirling fog came around the boy, but Will just tilted his head. What was that supposed to do?

"I can still see you," Will said uncertainly.

"You can? Good," he continued without waiting for Will's reply. "I saw what you did just now, you know. If you're not a demigod, what are you? A Titan-child? Son of Hyperion, maybe?"

"Uh...what do you mean 'titan-child'?"

The boy sighed. "You know the Greek gods?"

"Yeah." A pause. "Hang on, you said 'demigod.' You think there are people out here descended from..."

"The Greek gods, yes."

Will looked at the boy. "You're crazy," he said, as kindly as he could.

"Well, how else can you explain getting attacked by a black mastiff as big as a bear and protecting yourself by shooting light out of your palms?"

Will hesitated. He honestly couldn't think of a good excuse. If this were some kind of action movie and that had been CGI and special effects, Will could've explained that away. But there wasn't a set and there wasn't any CGI. As crazy as what the boy was saying seemed, well, Will _had_ nearly gotten killed by monsters no sane human would believe hearing about. Maybe there was some truth to it.

"Alright, so say I am a demigod," Will said guardedly. "Are you one too, then? And what's your name? You never introduced yourself."

The boy grinned, holding out a hand. "I'm Ferris. I'm a demigod."

Will shook the hand slowly. "I'm Will."

"So, Will," Ferris said after a short pause, "I hate to break it you, but this place isn't safe anymore." Will bit back a sarcastic retort. Ferris continued, "Actually, there's only one safe place for you now. See, we demigods give off a scent which attracts monsters, like the one that just attacked you. Once you find out who you really are- that is, that you're a demigod- it becomes even stronger. You're probably luring in monsters even as we speak."

"Why did you tell me then!?" Will demanded. "You knew you were putting me in danger!"

"To be honest, I thought you already knew. But now that you actually do, we need to move. I need to get you to Camp Half-Blood before we both get torn to shreds out here."

"What's Camp Half-Blood?" Will questioned, completely lost. "And you never told me what that thing was, or how you killed it so easily!"

"It's a place for demigods," Ferris said hurriedly, motioning for Will to move. "That was a hellhound. Oh, Hades. Your shoulder looks bad." He fished into his pocket and brought out a plastic bag filled with something that looked like squares of caramel. He tossed over the bag. "Before you ask, it's called ambrosia. It can heal demigods, but too much will make us feverish."

"What does it do to regular humans?" Will couldn't help but wonder, opening the bag and picking out an ambrosia square.

"Burns them to ashes," Ferris said cheerfully, starting into a jog. Will eyed the ambrosia distrustfully and hesitantly popped it into his mouth. When moments passed and he didn't burn up, he cautiously chewed. It was completely tasteless. Hastily swallowing, he sprinted after Ferris who was now a fair bit down the road.

"Where's Camp Half-Blood?" Will asked, panting a little.

"Long Island," was the terse response. "I have a car; we just need to get to it. It's not long off." Will nodded. Neither of them spoke for the next fifteen minutes, each by unspoken agreement knowing the other needed to conserve their strength.

Finally, they rounded a street corner and Ferris gave a sigh of relief, motioning to a beat-up, black sedan. "Here's our ride." He pulled out a key. The two dashed towards it, throwing the doors open and clambering inside. Once the doors were shut and locked, both heaved exhausted breaths. Ferris started up the car and pulled into the street with record speed and Will clutched the armrest in terror, having never actually been inside a car before.

"How far away from Camp Half-Blood are we?" Will questioned. Suddenly realizing he was injured, he glanced down at his shoulder only to come to an even more sudden realization that the wound had scabbed over and was no longer bleeding. He stared at it for a moment, astonished, until Ferris responded.

"About an hour. Now please stop asking questions. We could get ambushed at any time and neither of us can afford to be distracted."

Will nodded silently, suitably chastened. Then another question came to him and he opened his mouth, before forcibly shutting it with a barely audible click.

The next hour was mostly silent, broken only by Ferris's request for the ambrosia and a few tersely asked and answered questions about how Will was feeling and how far they were from camp now. After about a half-hour, Ferris suddenly seemed to remember there was a radio and turned it on. Will, who'd been hoping for something other than silence, felt excitement come up for a second- he scarcely ever got to listen to the radio- but it was quickly doused when he realized Ferris liked listening to country music.

Other than that, the ride passed smoothly. Despite never relaxing for one moment, the two boys's worst fears never paid off, much to their relief. No monster swooped in from above; no raging bull-man charged them from behind. For a day that had been so eventful, the lull both unnerved and relaxed Will, who was completely exhausted both by the run in with Tim and Charles and the one with the hellhound. Because of this, Will found himself beginning to drift off to sleep.

He was woken up some indeterminable amount of time later, this time by Ferris, accompanied by the words, "We're here." Will eagerly looked out and saw, much to his joy, that they were indeed there.

Camp Half-Blood was at first glance a normal summer camp. There were lush green meadows where some sort of bushes grew, a beach, and a forest. At the top of the hill, a huge dragon lay coiled around a small, golden bush. Upon closer inspection, Will realized it wasn't the bush that was golden; rather, the bush was covered by some sort of golden fabric.

"The Golden Fleece," Ferris told him, seeing the unspoken question on Will's face. "Camp Half-Blood has boundary magic that keeps the monsters out. It failed a few years ago, and the only thing that'd bring it back was the Golden Fleece."

Will nodded, swallowed down his questions about who the dragon was, and continued his perusal of the camp. The sky was completely dark, but torches of all sorts lit the camp up enough for Will to make out a rough outline of everything. A huge mansion lingered at the back of the entire camp, but in front of it were a bunch of cabins, set up in a strange symbol Will didn't recognize. Nearby, a huge pavilion of sorts stood. Scattered around the rest of the huge valley were what looked to be an archery range, an arena, an amphitheater, what looked to be a stable, and a forge. If it hadn't been for the clearly more modern mansion, Will would've thought he'd gotten taken back to Ancient Greece.

"Chiron was already alerted to your arrival," Ferris tells him. "We should go and introduce you to him and Mr. D."

"Mr. D?" Will echoed. "Chiron? Who are they? Why's he just called Mr. D?"

Ferris sighed. "Mr. D is short for Dionysus. Chiron's...well, you'll see."

"Dio...as in, the god of wine?"

A slow, sardonic clap sounded in Will's ears. "Bravo, bravo. I see you aren't a complete idiot. You have some culture."

Will spun around and beheld a chubby, black-haired man with bloodshot eyes. Unsure as to who he was and what to do, Will simply stood there and stared.

"Well?" the man inquired impatiently. "What are you waiting for? Get down on your knees, worship me, kill your parents and offer them as sacrifices."

Confused, Will knelt. "Who are you?"

"They just get stupider every decade!" the man exclaimed. _"Di immortales,_ I'm Dionysus!"

As someone who had only that day been exposed to the fact that Greek gods actually existed, Will decided he had the right to simply gape at Dionysus for a good ten seconds. When he finally manged to recover enough brainpower to respond, he looked over at Ferris, who looked extremely amused and was, very pointedly, not kneeling.

Flushing, Will scrambled to his feet, hoping Dionysus had been joking when he'd told Will to kneel- and also to offer his nonexistent parents as sacrifices. Will sincerely hoped the gods didn't require that kind of thing.

"Um, m-my lord Dionysus," Will stammered out, not really sure how to address a god, "it's nice to meet you?"

"Hmph," Dionysus muttered, glaring disapprovingly at Will. "I like the 'my lord' business. Haven't heard that one in a while. Usually, it's all 'Mr. D' this and 'Mr. D' that."

Will glanced over at Ferris again for help, and once again came up empty. "Ferris said I was supposed to meet you and Chiron, sir?"

Dionysus huffed again. "So he did. Well, you're definitely a demigod, so that automatically makes you eligible for camp. I'll let Chiron sort out the details." Without so much as a goodbye, Dionysus turned his back and walked away.

"You'll get used to it," Ferris told him. "All the gods are like that. Some people, too, if they spend too much time around the gods. Like the Rangers."

"The Rangers?" Will asked, curiosity instantly piqued. "Who are they?"

"Have you heard of the Hunters of Artemis?" Ferris queried, beginning to walk down the hill. At Will's hesitant nod, Ferris continued, "They're like that, but Apollo leads them instead. They're a secretive bunch, only men. No one really trusts them, not even the Hunters or the gods themselves."

"Why not?"

Ferris shrugged. "Many reasons. We don't really trust Artemis's Hunters either. Both of them are secretive and the only thing keeping them in check is their respective god. And, well, once you're around here for a little bit, you'll realize that the gods aren't known for being around a lot."

"Why not?" Will couldn't help questioning again. "Shouldn't they want to be around their kids?" By then, they were nearing the cabins. Will looked around in awe at the different structure and decorations around each. The first one that Will's gaze fell on was a huge marble one with bronze doors that flickered like lightning. Next to it, another one with slimmer columns and what looked to be peacocks on the walls stood.

"Zeus and Hera's cabins," Ferris told him. "There's a cabin to each of the gods, but of course Hera and Artemis's are only honorary."

"Why?"

Ferris heaved a sigh that told Will he was getting to the limit of questions he could ask. "Hera's the goddess of marriage. It wouldn't do for her to go running around having affairs with mortals, would it? Artemis is a virgin goddess, and she doesn't have that strange way of giving birth that Athena does. So no kids for her. She contents herself with her Hunters."

Will nodded slowly, turning his gaze to the other cabins as they walked past. He saw one covered in flowers, another with rock music blaring from it and a boar's head on the door, and one with an owl painted on the front. A heavy, pitch-black cabin at the end of the row caught Will's eyes next, but then a bright gleam distracted him and he found himself looking at a brilliant gold cabin. Despite it being a bit of an eyesore, Will couldn't help but feel fascinated by the gleaming gold, so like the sun even in the pitch darkness of the night.

"Whose cabin is that?" he asked, pointing towards it.

"Apollo's. Hey, you might be one of his kids, after all; maybe you should go check it out real quick before we go to Chiron."

Confused as to why Ferris thought he was Apollo's son, Will nevertheless stepped forward towards the cabin. There were a few teenagers milling about it, most with blond hair and good looks. Will suddenly felt self-conscious: he hadn't looked at himself in a mirror for the past year, but he doubted he looked- or smelled- good at all.

"Um, let's just go to Chiron before I meet anybody," Will mumbled. "I think I might need to take a shower."

Ferris looked relieved once Will mentioned a shower. "Yes, that's a good idea. Let's go to the Big House. The mansion up there," he corrected quickly when Will looked about to ask a question. The two walked up into the house, Will hesitantly and Ferris confidently. Upon entering, Ferris called out, "Chiron! We have a new camper!"

Hooves sounded against the floor and one of the most bizarre things Will had ever seen approached them. It looked like a cross between a man and a horse...Will racked his brain for what they were called, sure he had heard it on the street at some point.

"You're a centaur," Will finally said long after the moment had grown awkward.

Chiron, surprisingly, looked pleased. "Indeed I am. I am Chiron, activities director at Camp Half-Blood. And you are?"

"Will," said the boy. He hesitated. "Just Will."

"No last name?" Chiron didn't seem to be affected, just nodded. "I don't have one, either."

"You don't?"

"Kronos wasn't very fond of giving his children last names," Chiron told him with a completely straight face. Will had a feeling Kronos was someone important, but again- street education. The only things he knew were what he'd learned from his stay in the orphanage until he was nine and then from the streets until now. He was honestly surprised he even knew this much about Greek mythology. Maybe it was instinctive knowledge?

"How old are you, Will?" Chiron asked next, suddenly looking troubled.

"Um...fourteen, I think." Will didn't know exactly when his birthday was, but knew it was somewhere around August. Meaning he'd be fifteen in a few weeks.

"And no one's ever tried to come get you before?"

Will stared at the centaur, confused. "No...why should they?"

Chiron exchanged a meaningful glance with Ferris, then looked back at Will. "No matter. We'll have you speak with the Oracle if your parent doesn't claim you by tomorrow."

"Claim? What's that?"

Instead of getting annoyed by Will's constant questions, Chiron oddly enough looked happy. "When a demigod comes into camp, they are supposed to be claimed by their godly parent. The god will put their symbol over the demigod's head so everyone knows whose child they are. They are then sorted into cabins."

"Oh." Will took a moment to process this. "What do I have to do to get claimed?"

"It varies depending on the god, but you should get claimed immediately. You said you were fourteen, did you not?"

"Yes...but what does my age have to do with getting claimed?"

Again, no answer. Will was starting to get a little frustrated.

"Well, it's getting late. We'll have you sleep in one of the rooms here until tomorrow. And maybe shower, as well." Chiron nodded thoughtfully as Will's cheeks flamed with embarrassment. "I'll get an extra set of clothes laid out for you."

Thirty minutes later, Will was fully clean for the first time in years. It was an almost euphoric feeling, inasmuch as it was strange. Will glanced into the mirror of the bathroom and frowned. His hair came past his shoulder in unruly waves, and even though he'd done his best to wash it, it still looked rather dirty. The barest hint of facial hair was just starting to show up on his upper lip. Will reminded himself to ask Chiron for a razor. They _did_ have razors, didn't they? After all, the only person Will had seen with facial hair was Chiron. Surely they had to have razors.

Will stepped out of the bathroom and approached his bed. Chiron had done what he'd promised and laid out clothes. On the bed were a pair of shorts, a pair of jeans, and a neon orange shirt with a pegasus that read Camp Half-Blood across the top. Will pulled the shorts on and set the shirt and jeans aside. He couldn't help but compare his new clothes with his old ones that were laid on the floor. They were grimy from years of dirt, bloodied from Will's various run-ins with monsters and gangs, tattered, and torn. Now that he had better options, the old clothes were repulsive.

As Will sank into bed, marveling at the softness of it, he couldn't help but think, _maybe something good is finally happening to me._ Within the next minute, he was asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Will woke up bright and early, as was his custom. He stretched languidly, sinking again into the soft mattress, yawning. After a few more minutes without moving, he forced himself out of bed and pulled on his brilliant orange Camp Half-Blood shirt. The neon color made his eyes hurt. As someone whose living was dependent on being unnoticed, putting on what felt like a traffic light sign wasn't Will's favorite. In fact, he found he very much disliked it, but Chiron had given him the clothes out of the kindness of his heart. Having experienced little kindness to date, Will wasn't going to reject the gift even if that particular part of it wasn't pleasing.

He briefly eyed the jeans before deciding his shorts were good enough and opening the door. Upon exiting the Big House, Will promptly started down the hill towards the cabins and the towering pavilion. Hooves sounded behind him and Will spun around, arms raised in defense, before flushing in embarrassment as it turned out to be Chiron himself.

"Good morning, Will!" Chiron greeted. "You're up early."

"Yeah..." Will shrugged a little uncomfortably, awkwardly putting his hands back down to his sides. "Kind of a habit, I guess."

"We generally have breakfast around eight," Chiron told him kindly. "If you didn't know, it's five til seven now. Why don't you go around camp and see if anything appeals to your interests? We have a sword fighting arena, an archery range, and a forge, as well as many other things. Depending on your parent, you'll naturally be very talented with at least one thing here."

Will nodded, before a question came to him. "Wait, could you tell me who all these cabins are for?" He gestured to the strangely shaped- almost square, now that he saw it in the morning light- mass of cabins.

Again, Chiron looked like he enjoyed Will's questions. Not having had much human (if Chiron could even be called that) interaction in the past six years, Will wondered if that was a normal reaction. "Of course, my boy. The two cabins at the far end are the cabins of Zeus and Hera, the king and queen of the gods. You know who the Olympians are, yes?"

No, Will did not. But unwilling to look stupider than he felt, he just nodded.

"Since Hera is the goddess of marriage, she has no demigod children. Zeus, on the other hand, made a pact not to have any demigod children, along with the rest of the Big Three." At Will's blank look, Chiron clarified, "The Big Three are the three sons of Kronos and Rhea, the three most powerful gods in existence: Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades." Will vaguely recalled Poseidon as the sea god and Hades as the death god.

"The demigod children of the Big Three are more powerful than other demigods, and their influence on mortal history is vast. A division between Big Three children was what caused World War 2. After seeing how much damage their children could cause, Poseidon, Zeus, and Hades swore an oath on the River Styx never to have children again. However, a demigod recently- oh, maybe thirty, forty years ago- saved us from a rather unpleasant situation, and he asked for the Big Three pact to be broken, as well as a few other things."

"Why would he do that?" Will asked.

Chiron gave him an unreadable look and simply said, "He had his reasons." After a brief pause he continued. "As such, we have three children of Zeus at the moment. Poseidon is the next cabin, which has two campers, only one of whom is here at the moment. After that, Ares, Apollo, Hephaestus, and Hermes have their cabins along that row, in that order. Each of those has at least a dozen campers. On the ladies' side, we have Demeter, Athena, Artemis, Aphrodite, and Dionysus. Artemis-"

"Wait, isn't Dionysus a guy? Why is he on the girls' side?"

Chiron shifted his weight onto different hooves a little awkwardly. "That's a long story, and one you don't need to know now. Artemis, obviously, doesn't have children as she is a virgin goddess. The cabin sometimes houses her and her Hunters when they come to visit, however. Other than Dionysus, whose cabin is for honorary purposes as well, each of those cabins has at least a dozen campers."

"Why isn't Hades in there somewhere?"

"Hades was exiled from Olympus after being assigned to the Underworld. It was only in light of the half-blood's actions that he was allowed back to Olympus and was granted a cabin. You've already met the only one of his children who currently lives here: Ferris." Chiron motioned to the pitch-black cabin Will had noticed last night as he speaks. "The minor gods- that is, non-Olympians- have their cabins next to his. Iris, Hypnos, Nemesis, Nike, Hebe, Tyche, and Hecate all have their cabins in that row. Nike's cabin is currently empty, but all the others have at least a few campers, so unless you're a child of Nike, you won't be alone."

Sensing Chiron's tour had come to a close, Will nodded, not even thinking to thank the centaur- after all, gratitude wasn't something he was accustomed to feeling.

"I'll let you go now," Chiron added, motioning towards the rest of the camp. _"Hypíaine!"_

Somehow Will understood that to mean 'goodbye' and nodded again, lifting a hand as he jogged down the hill. He first walked over to check out the forge, situated next to a stream. On the way there he encountered a strange looking woman with green tinted skin and elfish features. His confusion must've shown, for she smiled at him and said, "New camper?" At his slow, embarrassed nod (was he really that obvious?), she told him, "I'm Aena. I'm a dryad, which basically means I'm a tree spirit. Each of us guard a specific tree."

Struck with a sudden idea, Will tentatively asked, "Are the water spirits...uh...naiads, I think? Are they real, too?"

She nodded, not saying anything either from distaste of him or shyness. After a moment passed where neither person said anything, Will bid her farewell and turned back, deciding he'd seen enough of the forge for right then. On his way to the stables, he found himself bumping into the chest of someone else. Caught by surprise, Will stumbled backwards and beheld a sturdy, muscled boy around his age glaring at him.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!"

"Sorry," Will apologized, despite not feeling very apologetic. Something about this boy already rubbed him the wrong way. Glaring, the other boy turned from Will and stormed away.

"Don't mind him." A clear, calm voice caused Will to turn around and offer a tentative smile to the girl who'd spoken. "Horace is always in a bad mood when he's hungry. I'm Alyss. Are you the new camper?"

"Yes, I'm Will." A little shamefacedly, he inquired, "Am I really that obvious?"

"Well, most people know to stay out of Ares's kids paths before breakfast," Alyss said kindly, "But Chiron did tell me about you late last night."

"Ares? The...?"

"The god of war." Alyss's nose wrinkled a little, "Or perhaps more accurately, bloodshed. Athena, my mother, is also a god of war, but she is about tactics and strategy."

Will was confused as to how there could be two gods of war but didn't question it, feeling he'd made enough of a fool of himself already. Alyss was still talking, probably wanting to make him feel more welcome. As used as he was to the awkward silences of the past two days, it succeeded.

"Breakfast is coming up in around twenty minutes, so we should probably get to mess hall soon. It's that pavilion over there, by the way." She motioned in its direction. "Were you heading anywhere in particular?"

"Oh- yes," Will got out awkwardly. "I wanted to check out the stables. I've never seen a horse in real life before."

Alyss smiled and started walking with Will towards the building. "I think you'll be in for a pleasant surprise then," she simply told him.

A few minutes later, Will found out what she meant. "Are those...are those _pegasi!?"_

She nodded, grinning at Will's disbelief. "The Poseidon and Aphrodite kids get along the best with them, but they're known for liking Apollo kids as well- children of the sun god and all that. Everyone else generally stays away from them, though. We have non-winged horses for those who don't like flying." Will nodded distractedly, staring in awe at the feathered wings of the two dozen pegasi in huge, roomy stalls. The building had a gigantic, vaulted ceiling that had confused Will before he'd seen the occupants, but now understood. Several of the winged horses were even then flitting around the stable, completely free of any restraints.

Unfortunately, as Will finally tore his gaze away from the pegasi and turned to the regular horses, not all equines were as lucky. None of them wore bridles, but they were haltered and tied and had much smaller stalls with limited leg room.

"We have riding lessons everyday, so you don't need to worry about them cramping up," Alyss told him, probably seeing the concern on Will's face. "Most people don't bother the pegasi though, so we had to give them more freedom."

"I can't believe you have actual flying horses," Will murmured in awe after a moment, glancing over at the beasts again. Alyss laughed and grabbed Will's hand, tugging him back towards the door.

"It's almost breakfast time. If you want we can come back later, but I'm hungry." A loud growl sounded from Will's stomach; Alyss laughed again and added, "And I think you are, too."

* * *

As Will hadn't been claimed, he was forced to sit at the Hermes table. They were better than he had expected; all instantly accepted him, cracking jokes and unashamedly planning for pranks right in front of him. After a few minutes, Will joined in. No one had ever shared his same love for pranks, and as he dug into barbecue and grapes he eagerly traded some of his best ideas with several of the members. Every one of his ideas was received with the same mischievous joy that Will was accustomed to feeling by himself, and by the time breakfast was over, he'd made fast friends.

At the end of the meal, Chiron announced the activities for the day per each cabin. Directly after breakfast, the Hermes, Hades, Apollo, and Hecate cabins would go to the climbing wall. They then had free time until lunch. After that, it was Ancient Greek lessons, archery, and then tactics with only the Hermes and Athena cabins. Will was to go along with the Hermes cabin all the day.

After gaining some new second degree burns and singing his hair, Will collapsed on the ground next to the lake and plunged his hands into the cool water. Ferris plopped down next to him, completely untouched.

"That looks painful," he commented, motioning to the angry red welts.

Will shrugged, drawing his hands out of the water and examining them in the bright sunlight. The abrupt change in temperature made them sting but he barely flinched. "I've had worse."

Ferris didn't even blink. "Haven't we all."

"Is this what camp's like every day? We have set schedules, are forced to burn ourselves, and such?"

Now Ferris shrugged. "More or less. Saturdays and Sundays generally have less planned. Sometimes we do capture the flag in the evenings, or some other kind of 'team bonding.'" He made air quotes. "As I'm the only camper in my cabin, there's only so much bonding I can do with my nonexistent cabinmates."

"Well, if I get claimed..." Will paused. "Maybe you won't be alone anymore?"

The other boy laughed. "You think you're a son of Hades? If you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly a bundle of joy."

"Are you saying I am? Why thank you."

"If you were a son of anyone, I'd say Ares."

"What!?"

"You know..." Ferris pointed at Will's biceps- or lack of biceps. "You have the muscles for it, after all."

Will stared at his arm for a second, confused, before realizing his leg was being pulled. "Ha ha, very funny." The two sat in almost-comfortable silence for a while. Will soaked his hands in the lake and nibbled on a square of ambrosia (the healer had warned him against having too much, since he'd already had some the day before). Then a question occurred to him.

"Ferris, can I ask you something?"

"You just did," came the slightly grumpy response, "but you can ask something else, too."

"Exactly what did the Rangers do for everyone to distrust them so?"

Something strange flashed over Ferris's face- satisfaction? "Many things. The Rangers are supposed to be our 'protectors.'" He nearly spits the word. "But the only one with any jurisdiction over them is Apollo, and well...gods aren't all that trustworthy even in the best of times. The Hunters mind their own business, moving according to Artemis's wishes over which magical animal to hunt. The Rangers are Apollo's spies."

Will just stared at Ferris, transfixed over the very real hatred present in Ferris's eyes. What had the Rangers done to him to make him hate them so? "Apollo says they're Olympus's lawkeepers, but really they're murderers and thieves."

"What did they do?" Will blurted.

Ferris turned his gaze on Will, who shrank backwards from the hatred, anger...insanity glimmering in the son of Hades's eyes. "Nothing that concerns you, Will."

Then, just as suddenly as the madness had come, it vanished, leaving only a tired Ferris running a hand over his eyes. "Sorry about that," he said, even though something in his tone didn't sound entirely apologetic.

"It's- it's alright," Will choked out. "I'll- I'll be going now, I think." He stood up and began to walk away, but was stopped by a hand on his arm.

"Will, I-I'm sorry about just now." This time, Ferris truly did sound apologetic. "Something...something terrible happened. It's hard to speak about. I'll tell you someday, I promise." Will nodded slowly, still unnerved. He fought the urge to rip his arm out of the other boy's grip. "It's actually the first time I've told anybody about it...you just kind of brought it out of me."

Will nodded again. This time, he couldn't help but feel a warm glow at Ferris's words. The other demigod was implying he was...special. Will had never felt special. He'd never really had any friends before.

"Say, let's go to the strawberry fields. I'm feeling hungry."

The arm on Will's shoulder didn't feel unnerving anymore. Now it felt like it belonged. "Okay, Ferris."

* * *

"Set your feet firmly," a voice came to Will. Chiron. "And turn your head so only one eye is looking at your target. You don't want the two different images messing up your aim."

Will nodded slowly and raised his bow. He selected an arrow and held it between his thumb and forefinger, nocking it to the bow. Pursing his lips in concentration, he drew back slowly, grimacing as the friction put pressure on the burns- Ferris had told him Chiron could heal the burns, but Will was used to taking care of himself. He didn't want to seem weak. He released the arrow and watched as it sailed straight past the target and landed with a thump in the grass several feet past that. At the same time, the string whacked him solidly in the forearm.

"Ow!" he dropped the bow on instinct and cradled his arm. The string had snapped right against a burn.

"Here, put this- are those burns?"

Will nodded, not knowing quite why he felt guilty. "Your climbing wall. It's, um, unique." Somehow, he didn't think it polite to tell Chiron he thought it was one of the worst things he'd ever done and he never wanted to do it again.

"Ah, yes. I've never tried-" Chiron motioned to his hooves- "but it doesn't look fun. Sadly, Lord Dionysus insists it be there in order to train demigods for potential life-or-death situations."

"You mean...those are a thing?" Will asked slowly, bow all but forgotten.

Chiron nodded, eyes suddenly far away. "Although I do my best to keep everyone here safe, it's impossible. No one is perfect. There are monsters that want nothing more than to kill demigods, and older, darker things lying in wait to start wars. This world is a dangerous place, Will. Some demigods can escape it. If one's parent is a minor god or the lineage is rendered weak, monsters will sometimes ignore the demigod and they can leave a normal life, even outside the camp."

"Could I do that?" Will questioned. Chiron was shaking his head before the question even finished.

"You haven't even been claimed yet, but no. There's no way. You, well, you smell too strong."

Will's face flushed. He'd just taken a shower last night, but sweat had already started to accumulate, probably making him smell a bit ripe. "I can go shower-"

"Not that way, my boy," Chiron interrupted. "The scent monsters- and immortals, like myself- smell is based off of the individual's power and awareness of themselves. The stronger the demigod and the more self-aware they are, the stronger they smell. Will, you will never be able to live in the mortal world unless you want to live in constant fear of being attacked. You will draw in monsters from miles away."

Will dropped his head. In all honesty, he wasn't that disappointed. After all, what was he really leaving behind? Being a thief? Eating once a day, if that? Having to live sheltered under an overhang? This camp might have that awful climbing wall, but at least he was given food, clothing, shelter. At least he didn't have to fight tooth and nail for every scrap of meat. "Alright, sir. Thank you." He'd picked up the use of 'sir' after the orphanage at age 9. It brought back bad memories, but its usage always seemed to get good results.

"It was my pleasure, Will. Now, what about that bow?"

Will raised it once more and nocked an arrow to the string. As he drew, a rush of wind blew past his face. A low, indistinct murmur set Will's bones on edge, then relaxed them. He felt a rush of unknown power and released, watching in shock as it hit the target.

Not a bullseye, no. Will couldn't dream of hitting the bullseye on his second shot. But scarcely two inches away, his arrow was embedded into the wood.

Chiron's eyes flicked upwards, above his head. "Well," said he, "It looks like you have been claimed."

Will looked up. A golden lyre flickered above his head. "What does that mean?" He looked pleadingly at Chiron.

The centaur smiled at him. "All hail Will, son of Apollo."

 **A/N:** if you find any typos/weird stuff, please tell me. I didn't edit this (will probably go back through it at some time, but not yet) so it will most likely have at least one thing that sounds weird. I want to make it look as professional as possible, so please tell me if you encounter a mistake.

Also, some of you might be really confused where I'm going with the whole Ferris thing, but just bear with me. I have a plan for this fic and I have most of it planned out already.

Hope you enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** since a reviewer told me they were confused as to which Will this story is about, I'd like to confirm that this story stars Will Treaty as the protagonist, not Will Solace. I tried to drop hints- No-Name is the nickname Horace taunted Will by in book one, for instance- but since both Will's are sons of Apollo, I can see why it's confusing. In order to make it a little less confusing, I'll say that I have no plans to have any characters of Percy Jackson make appearances except the gods, the monsters, and a few immortals like Chiron. None of the demigods or mortals of Percy Jackson are going to appear.

Now that that's been said, please enjoy this chapter!

* * *

Since Will had now been assigned to the Apollo cabin, the entire rest of the day was completely different. Instead of tactics with Hermes and Athena Will was to go to arts and crafts with the Apollo, Demeter, Tyche, and Hebe cabins. Will had no idea what arts and crafts had to do with survival, but everyone else seemed to think it a normal occurrence. Will's new cabinmates were welcoming, if a bit hesitant to completely accept him.

Will was used to being alone. He'd been alone by choice during his stay at the orphanage, and once he'd run away had been alone by necessity. Will found solace in solitude; it was the one thing he knew more than anything else. Alone meant safe. Alone meant no one could hurt him. So he didn't feel hurt when none of his siblings went out of their way to include him. It wasn't that they disliked him; they simply didn't care.

As days passed, Will began to grow closer and closer to Ferris. A few others were tolerably nice to Will- Alyss, the nice girl who'd shown him to the stables his first day; George, her half brother; and Jenny, a daughter of Hebe with a love for cooking. Even though they were at least a little better than the others, Will still felt lonely. The only person who made him feel at all better was Ferris.

Ferris was always there. Always. At first it weirded Will out. Surely it wasn't normal for one person to always be watching him, be talking to him, be doing something to him in some way? But he shoved those thoughts away. Six years of near-solitude had screwed with Will's mind. It was normal for someone to be with you the entire day or as much as possible. It was normal for that person to taunt you whenever you showed fear- even if it was something legitimately frightening. Ferris didn't mean it _that_ way, after all. It was normal for that person to tell you those fears, any fears, were insignificant, and later that his opinion always mattered most.

It was. It _was_ normal.

Wasn't it?

A week and a half went by. Will learned archery beside Ferris. He burned himself on the climbing wall and refused to go to Chiron (Ferris wasn't happy). They played capture the flag; Ferris was on the other team. He warned Will not to mess with the other side or he'd get mad.

Will obeyed.

The rest of the Apollo cabin wouldn't speak to him for a day.

He talked to Alyss, George, and Jenny. They told him it was hard to settle in sometimes; that it might take him a few weeks, but he'd become part of the group eventually. That night, Will sat on the shore at Long Island Sound with his knees pulled up to his chest. He stared out into the distance and wondered if they truly meant what they'd said or if they just pitied him.

Ferris didn't follow him there.

It wasn't all bad, of course. A few of the Apollo kids warmed up to Will after a week or so, enough to offer to teach him how to play the guitar. Will eagerly accepted. He proved to be a quick learner despite the stabbing pain in his fingers from the guitar frets; turned out, most Apollo kids were naturally skilled with at least one instrument. After two weeks, the kid who owned the guitar offered to give it to Will for free- according to him, his mom was rich and would replace it immediately. Will was so touched by the boy's kindness he almost cried.

Jenny brought her own comfort in the form of food. As a daughter of Hebe, she had a special way about her that made everyone automatically like her- not quite like the Aphrodite kids, but something similar. Generally the food Harpies wouldn't ever let anyone in their precious kitchens, but Jenny had proven her worth several times over in the food department. Any day the Hebe and Apollo cabins teamed up, Jenny would be there with something special, be it pie, cookie, or pizza.

Alyss...Alyss, too, was a bright spot. Her gentle tact and dry wit were things that instantly drew Will to her; she was welcoming and didn't judge, something he craved. She had intelligence and was one of the smartest people Will knew, even though she rarely showed it. She hated actually fighting (despite the fact she could handle double knives like nobody's business), but was always there in the background smoothing down ruffled feathers, pointing out flawed plans, keeping the Ares kids from killing not only each other but everyone else in Camp Half-Blood.

Not only was she tactful and smart, she was pretty. No, beautiful. She had the poise and confidence he'd seen in many Athena children, as well as a clear, level head even when the unexpected happened. Although there were Aphrodite kids out there prettier than her, Will much preferred Alyss's own style of beauty to theirs.

In all honesty, Will wasn't quite sure what he felt about Alyss. He'd liked girls before- rather, liked one girl back at his orphanage- but Will hadn't felt that towards anyone in so long that it felt strange. Indeed, he'd been nine the last time he'd had a crush; what was to say that that had even been a crush? Or that this was a crush now? But whatever it was, Will resolved never to tell Ferris. Ever. Who knew how the older boy would react?

At the end of three weeks, Chiron made an announcement at dinner, stating that the Rangers of Apollo would be coming for a visit and would be staying a week. They would arrive the next day. Monday.

Now that Will had known Ferris for three weeks, it was easy to see that Ferris's hatred of the Rangers knew no bounds. Every time they were brought up either by Will, Ferris, or someone else, that unnerving, manic glint would shine in Ferris's eyes and he'd mutter or rant or rave about something Will never understood. Every single time, Ferris would say something terrible happened, that the Rangers deserved to die for their crimes, that they should never even have existed. Every single time, Ferris would abruptly snap out of it and apologize. Every single time, Will believed he meant the apology a little less.

When Chiron made the announcement, Will's first thought was to look at Ferris. He had mixed reasons for doing so, but one of the foremost was that he wanted to see Ferris's reaction. Would he be angry? Would he perhaps go into one of his manic spells right there?

But Ferris's face was unreadable and he remained silent, sitting alone at the empty Hades table. Will went back to looking at Chiron and the rest of the meal passed uneventfully. Then as everyone was leaving, a hand latched onto Will's arm. Will hated being grabbed out of the blue like that: it made him feel defenseless, unprotected, and scared as if he were alone on the streets again and had just been ambushed. But when he'd tried to bring it up to Ferris, the boy had only laughed. "You're just paranoid, get over it," he'd said. So Will had shut his mouth and done just that.

"We need to talk." Somehow when Ferris said that, Will got the feeling he really meant _I_ need to talk.

"Okay."

Ferris led Will over to a secluded spot beside the lake, where the two sat down. Unwilling to be the first one to speak, Will stared at the older boy and waited. Finally, Ferris spoke. "I can't believe they have the guts to come back here."

Like always, curiosity burned within Will. He longed to know why Ferris hated the Rangers so much. The son of Hades always made excuses- they didn't have time, they could get overheard, Will needed to do something first. But after he'd asked Ferris to tell him for the fifth time, the boy had gotten angry at him. After that, Will didn't ask. So he just nodded in reply to Ferris and waited for his friend to continue on.

"After all they've done to me, can you believe they have the nerve to come back to Camp Half-Blood?"

"Maybe they don't know you're here," Will suggested.

"Oh, they definitely know I'm still here."

"Maybe they want to make amends?"

Ferris scoffed. "Yeah, right. You can't just ask forgiveness for something like that."

Will bit his tongue. "Well, I guess we'll find out then, won't we?"

Ferris stared at the ground, eyes dark. "I suppose we will."

* * *

"Good morning, No-Name!"

Will's lips tightened. Ever since Horace, son of Ares had found out he had no last name, the boy had apparently decided to make his life as miserable as possible. Horace knew Will would never take outright action against him; not only was Will far weaker and less experienced than Horace, the Apollo cabin was also five campers smaller. And while Will was generally regarded as an outcast, Horace was one of the senior campers and could almost have challenged the head counselor for his position.

"Hey! No-Name! Don't ignore me!"

The Ares cabin was known to house the most bullies; they could be found in any cabin, but Ares kids had just the right amount of physical strength and just the wrong amount of intelligence and impulse control to have the perfect recipe for bullying. Although Chiron hated bullying and stopped it whenever he could, Mr. D encouraged it, saying that 'tribulation made one stronger.' Therefore, most kids under the age of fifteen were either bullies or bullied.

A rough hand landed on his collar. Panicking, Will reacted instinctively: lashing out with his legs, ripping out of Horace's grip and decking him solidly in the head. Although Will was no match for Horace in brute strength, in wits and speed Horace was hopelessly outmatched.

The son of Ares staggered back, wiping at the blood dripping from his nose. Rage seemed to pour from Horace and Will found himself for once wishing his instincts hadn't kicked in.

 _"βάλλ' εἰς κόρακας!"_

Will snarled, automatically understanding the words as _go to the crows-_ perhaps more accurately, _go fuck yourself!_ He knew that attempting to wrestle with him would only end badly, so he slipped into his old tactics- fight, then flight. Will had always been fast and that speed had been honed through years of life or death situations. He darted in and out, landing or feinting a hit and moving away before the lumbering beast that was Horace could even react.

For a few seconds the plan worked perfectly. Horace was slow and not too bright. Unfortunately, however, he still had some iota of brainpower and soon wised up. The fourth time Will leaped in, Horace lashed out with one foot. Not expecting an attack down below, Will staggered. That was enough for Horace to grab Will by the throat and lift him bodily into the air, strangling him.

"Not so confident now, are you, No-Name?" Horace sneered. His breath smelt terrible. If he hadn't already been choking from lack of air, Will would've gagged at the smell. "I'm the one with all the power here, understand?" He shook Will roughly. Will just glared at him. He'd run into enough bullies in his short life, thank you very much. The day he'd agree to one of their demands was the day the underworld would freeze over. "I said, do you understand!?"

Will remained silent. Growing impatient, Horace dropped him roughly on the ground, leveling him a harsh kick in the ribs. Will weakly struggled to stand up but was shoved back down again. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" Will glared hatefully at him. Horace launched into a series of unoriginal curse words. At the end of them, he kicked Will again. By that point, Will was fairly certain at least one rib was bruised, and badly. His throat would also probably sport bruises for the next couple of days- if he made it to the next couple of days. By the way Horace was looking at him, Will couldn't be completely sure.

He suddenly found himself wishing for Ferris. Even though he'd probably berate Will for being stupid and attracting Horace's attention in the first place, he would save Will from the son of Ares. But Ferris had vanished late last night, not wanting to be around for when the Rangers came to camp. He'd told Will he wouldn't be able to bear it. Neither George nor Jenny would dare take Horace's wrath on them in place of Will, and Alyss probably wouldn't either- Will was well and truly alone.

Will stared up into Horace's hateful eyes, clamped his jaw shut when Horace kicked him again. He was still speaking; spouting hateful words and curses and telling Will he should've never been born.

"Stop."

Horace didn't seem to recognize the new voice. He bent over and picked Will back up again, still ranting, cursing, yelling.

"I won't say it again, Horace Altman."

Both boys stiffened, slowly turned around. Horace's grip on Will's shirt tightened. Will had never heard Horace's last name before and briefly wondered if the new voice was Ares himself, stopping his son. From what he'd heard of Ares, though, that didn't seem likely. As they both turned fully around, Will's eyes got wide with fear. From the way Horace promptly dropped him and backed away several feet, Horace was cowed as well.

Standing before them, longbow raised and arrow already nocked to the string, was a Ranger.

"R-Ranger, y-you've got it all wrong," Horace stammered hurriedly. "This was j-just a, a game. I wasn't actually hurting him or anything. Right, Will?"

Will weighed his options briefly. If he told the truth, he would get in more trouble with Horace later on. If he lied, the Ranger might get mad at both of them. Thankfully the Ranger spoke before Will could fully decide. "I'd say the bruises already forming on his neck and the way he's clutching his ribs are telling me otherwise. Now, would you like to rethink what you're telling me, or would you like me to put an arrow through you instead?"

The Ranger's voice was cold, clear, and even. The sheer calmness of it made it unnerving. His face was much the same: cold, impassive, calm. If he hadn't spoken Will wouldn't have known what he thought of the situation at all, except perhaps for the arrow that was still nocked, still pointing straight at Horace's...leg?

"Y-You're right. I was! I was hurting him! I didn't mean to bruise his ribs or anything, though. It just happened, I swear!"

"I see. Did you also mean to near strangle him? How about cursing him to Tartarus and telling him to kill himself?" Will flinched at the Ranger's words. He'd sort of let Horace's words wash over his ears, not truly taking in any of them, but now that the Ranger had brought them up there was no escaping them.

"I..." Horace seemed, for once, lost for words.

"Well?" The Ranger was growing more impatient by the second. Will noticed he pulled the arrow back ever so slightly.

"N-No, of course not."

"I see," said the Ranger again. He nodded thoughtfully. "I will be informing Chiron of this. I think you know that he does not tolerate bullying in camp, yes?" Horace visibly sagged in relief, obviously thinking that he was being let off easily. Then the Ranger continued. "And if I ever see or hear word of you hurting anyone else in this camp ever again, I will put this arrow straight through your heel. Even nectar and ambrosia won't be able to make you walk straight again."

Horace gulped. "Y-Yes, sir!"

"Will."

The boy jumped, clutching his ribs with a barely-concealed wince. "Yes, sir?" He didn't quite hide the tremor in his voice. Ferris would kill him if he found out what he'd provoked Horace to do. Surely this Ranger wouldn't be different. In fact, he'd probably be worse. What would his punishment for Will be?

"Come with me."

Will lurched up unsteadily, swaying as dizziness came on. His ribs throbbed. His throat ached every time he drew in breath. Then he realized whose company he was in and wiped his face free of any pain. He was in a Ranger's company; someone from the order Ferris despised. Ferris might very well hit Will himself once he found out Will had talked to a Ranger alone, but it wasn't like he had a choice. The Ranger would probably shoot Will in the ankle if he didn't obey.

The two of them walked in silence. Now that the Ranger's longbow was slung at his back and Will was no longer under direct threat, he had time to survey the mysterious figure.

The Ranger was middle-aged, somewhere between thirty and forty, with dark hair beginning to grey. Both his hair and his beard were unevenly cut like his barbers had done a very bad job with it- or like he'd cut them himself. He wore a strange cloak mottled grey and green with a deep hood that hung down his back. At the front, it was fastened with a silver laurel wreath- one of Apollo's sacred symbols.

"Have you met my dad?" Will asked before he could stop himself.

The Ranger turned his gaze to Will. "Met who?" he asked, yet Will got the strangest feeling he already knew exactly who Will had been talking about.

"Apollo. He's my dad."

"Yes," the Ranger said shortly. Will waited to see if he was going to elaborate, but he said no more and several minutes later, the man finally stopped. They were not far from the Big House with no other person close by. All of Will's previous misgivings came back; did the Ranger want to shoot him, perhaps? What if he was a son of Ares himself and wanted revenge on Will for provoking Horace? What if-

"How are your ribs?"

Will blinked, taken aback. Maybe the Ranger wanted to know so he knew how much he could hurt Will? In that case, should he over-exaggerate? What if he wanted to know in order to see how weak Will was? Maybe it'd be the best idea to say they didn't hurt at all.

"For Hades's sake, I just asked how your ribs felt," the Ranger snapped as the silence dragged on, "not which Aphrodite girl you're in love with."

"I'm- I'm not-" Will stammered, before hastily stopping when he met with the Ranger's glare. "Um. They're- uh, they're...fine. They're fine, sir."

"If you're going to lie to me, at least put some effort into it."

Will flushed and looked at the ground. "They're bruised, maybe broken. I've had worse, though. I'll be fine."

When he looked back up, the Ranger's expression was unreadable. He reached inside his cloak and brought out a pouch, which he offered to Will. Will hastily took it from the older man and opened it, seeing ambrosia inside . "Take half a square. Follow it with this." He offered a canteen. "Not too much nectar now, mind you. Wouldn't do for you to burn up."

Will nodded and broke off half a square of the godly food, fighting a grimace at the sawdust taste. Other demigods seemed to think ambrosia tasted good, but Will had never been able to see why. Both nectar and ambrosia were tasteless to him. After he'd finished with the ambrosia, he handed the pouch back to the Ranger and accepted the nectar canteen, taking a swig. Already, he could feel the bruises start to fade. He gave the Ranger a grateful, if wary look. Over the weeks he'd learned it was good manners to thank someone for something like this.

"Thank you, sir."

"The name's Halt."

He hesitated. Ferris would never forgive him if Will told him he was on first name basis with a Ranger. "Was that all, sir?"

Halt studied him for a few seconds. He seemed almost...disappointed? Angry? Will couldn't tell. "Yes, that was all," he said finally. He started walking away before looking over his shoulder and adding, "for now."

Will watched the mysterious Ranger go, confused. When he'd realized the figure stopping Horace from killing him was a Ranger, he'd expected someone different. He'd expected someone who was cruel, manipulative, merciless. Someone who'd kill both of them as soon as look at them. But Halt had been...gruff, yes. But he'd given Will ambrosia, had stood up for him, had given Horace punishment for bullying someone.

What if Ferris was wrong? What if there were some good Rangers after all?


	4. Chapter 4

"You did fucking _what!?"_

Will had never seen Ferris that angry. He self-consciously touched his bruised lip, put the other arm over his ribs protectively. "It- it wasn't my fault," he protested weakly. "I didn't do anything! I was just, just walking and Horace-"

"That's no excuse," Ferris hissed. "You attracted the attention of a Ranger! I thought I told you not to interact with them at all! I thought I told you they were all liars and murderers!"

Briefly, a thought occurred to Will. _Since when do you have a say in what I do or think?_ But he shoved it away. Will needed Ferris. Ferris was his only friend; he couldn't afford to think silly thoughts like that and potentially lose him. "The one I talked to didn't seem that bad though, Ferris!" Will protested. "He stopped Horace from killing me and even gave me ambrosia to help heal me up!"

"You let a Ranger give you ambrosia!?" Ferris almost shrieked. "What the fuck, Will? I trusted you!"

 _Slap_

Will staggered back, eyes wide. "F-Ferris-"

"After everything I've done for you, after everything I've told you about the Rangers, you could still bring yourself to talk to a Ranger? To accept _food_ from one?"

"He didn't give me a choice! If I didn't walk with him, he probably would've shot me or something! But he was still...nice in his own way, I think. I don't think all Rangers are terrible. Yeah, there are a couple that did something terrible-" _even though I don't even know what that is,_ he thought dryly- "But the entire order couldn't possibly be corrupt! Halt was kinda intimidating, but he didn't strike me as a bad person."

Ferris's eyes grew wide as Will got further into his speech. At the last sentence, his face turned pale. "Did you say... _Halt?_ You spoke to Halt?"

"You know him?" Will asked carefully, cheek still stinging from Ferris's slap.

"He's the one who did this to me!" Ferris suddenly seemed to grow taller, bigger, older. "You _traitor!_ I fucking trusted you, and you went and talked to my enemy! Alone!"

Starting to get scared, Will slowly backed away. Ferris was larger than life, emanating an aura that screamed death. "Ferris, I'm sorry," he tried. "I didn't know-"

"You didn't know!? Will, I told you not to talk to a Ranger!" Ferris drew his sword and stabbed it into the ground. A fissure opened and the obsidian tiles of the Hades Cabin ruptured around it. "You betrayed me. I don't think we can be friends anymore."

"Wha- Ferris, no. Please! I'm sorry, please just-"

"That's final. I can't be friends with someone who'll go against my wishes like that."

"Ferris, please." Will was back against the wall, desperately blinking away tears. He didn't know what he'd do without Ferris. He didn't want to know. The son of Hades was his rock- Will didn't know if he could live without him. "Please, I'll do anything. Just, just don't leave me."

Ferris stared at him for a long moment. Will could've sworn he saw something akin to satisfaction gleam in the boy's eyes, but he told himself he was delusional. Ferris wouldn't look satisfied about something like this.

"Alright," he said slowly. "If you do me a favor, you can consider yourself my friend again."

"Anything," Will said immediately. "I'll do anything, just please..." it wounded his pride to beg, but...he'd spent so long alone. He didn't want to be alone again.

"I overheard the Rangers say they wanted to take on a new apprentice, and they mentioned your name. That was why I wanted you to stay away from them. But..." the manic gleam came into Ferris's eyes, and Will would've stepped back again if he'd had any room to do so. "Even better, it was Halt himself who said he wanted you as his apprentice."

"What does this have to do-"

"Shut up. I'm getting there. If you want to become friends with me again, I want you to become Halt's apprentice. Learn about the Rangers; who their leaders are other than Apollo, who they listen to. I want you to learn about their hierarchy, and most importantly...I want you to gain Halt's trust."

"Ferris, I...I can't do that," Will stammered, reaching for the door. "You're asking me to betray-"

"I'm asking you to _spy_ on the order that ruined my life! They, especially Halt, do not deserve your sympathy or compassion or any of that."

"It's not right, Ferris," he protested, but it fell on deaf ears.

"What Halt did to me wasn't right, either, Will. I'm giving you two choices: you can either do what I say, learn about the Rangers, gain Halt's trust, and earn my friendship back, or you can say goodbye to me. Forever. And don't think I'll help you out again ever. After all, isn't help what friends are supposed to do?"

It was wrong. Will knew that. But Ferris was the best friend he had. Will couldn't give him up.

But he couldn't knowingly lie to someone, either. Not even for Ferris. That was wrong. Maybe Apollo wouldn't care; maybe gods didn't concern themselves with that, but Will would like to think his mother would. Surely his mother had to have been an exceptional person to attract a god; surely she would never want her boy to do something like this, even for a friend.

"No."

"What did you say?"

"I said no."

Ferris's eyes suddenly looked very dangerous. Very dark, manic, and dangerous. "Are you sure? Because you won't like what I can do to you if you refuse me."

Will bit his lip. Years of survival instincts were screaming _no, Will! Do what he says! Save your own life!_ But Will wanted to make his mother proud. If nothing else in his life was deserving of pride, at least this could be. "No, Ferris."

"I'll kill you, then." Will didn't falter, even as he sensed the absolute veracity of the statement. "But first, I'll kill your precious Alyss, daughter of Athena. And then I'll kill her brother George. Maybe I'll even get onto Jenny, daughter of Hebe."

Will froze. Out of all the horrible outcomes he'd thought of, this hadn't been one. Ferris wouldn't kill Alyss. He wouldn't kill George or Jenny.

Would he?

"Ferris, you- you wouldn't." But Will looked into the boy's eyes and saw the cold steel in them. He knew, from years of living on the streets, that Ferris was fully prepared to do just that.

Ferris reached forward and grabbed Will by the collar of his Camp Half-Blood t-shirt. "I will kill all three of them. Slowly. I will keep you on the brink of death for _weeks_ if you do not do what I say." The mania in his eyes blazed like berserker rage.

"Y-You're not Ferris," Will got out, even though his eyes were inches away from Ferris's own and he could see that they were indeed Ferris's eyes. "You can't be. He wouldn't- he wouldn't do this."

The manic anger turned into manic amusement and Ferris laughed. "Oh, my dear Will," he said, the 'dear' sounding like a mockery, "You didn't really think I liked you, did you? You couldn't possibly have _believed_ someone would want to hang out with street scum like you. Whoever you thought I was is false."

"No, that's- that's not-"

"Get over it," Ferris ordered harshly, shaking Will and causing his hurt ribs to throb. "I'm not your friend, nor was I ever. I thought I could get what I wanted by pretending I liked you, but you're too much of a goody-two-shoes. You really do like making it hard for people, don't you?"

"Ferris," Will pleaded, "please."

Ferris kneed Will in the gut and watched, unmoved, as he fell to the ground, gasping. "Get up," he ordered. "Go find Halt- or more accurately, let him find you. Tell him you want to be his apprentice." He dropped something on the ground beside Will- a pitch-black, reflective square of...something. "This is a Stygian Mirror. Contact me through Shadow Message by putting it inside a dark shadow. Once it's activated, say my name and it should connect. Once you've been accepted as his apprentice, I expect you to contact me every week with what you've learned about the Rangers. Training techniques, locations, hideouts, names of the Rangers- doesn't matter. I'll take anything."

"Ferris." It hadn't worked thus far, but Will needed to try one last time. He needed to see if that friend he'd thought he had was still there, or if he'd only been making it up the entire time. _"Please."_

There was the sound of metal on metal, and a Stygian iron sword was underneath Will's chin. "If you don't move in the next three seconds, you'll be putting your child of Apollo healing abilities to use."

Will's eyes filled with tears. He blinked them angrily away. _"Ferris-"_

He screamed. Through pain-blurred eyes, he looked down and saw his orange t-shirt rapidly staining with blood from a cut in his side. It didn't look to be very deep, but it was painful. "F-Ferris-"

 _"Move._ Before I'm tempted to hurt you any further."

Will scrambled to his feet, clutching his side and grabbing the Stygian Mirror as an afterthought. He gave one final glance to the boy he'd once called friend, then ran.

* * *

"Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid, _stupid_ Will!"

Will buried his head into a stack of hay and sobbed. Not only had his first real friend betrayed him, he hadn't even existed in the first place- Will had been tricked from the start. But that wasn't even the worst part. At the threat of not only his but his other friends' lives, Will had to spy on and backstab someone he was supposed to train under. Even though Halt wasn't exactly the most pleasant guy and he'd apparently done something horrid to Ferris, Will hated deception. He had no love for the man- didn't trust him at all thanks to his upbringing and Ferris's words- but that still didn't merit...this. What Will had to do.

Knowing the real Ferris- or another piece of Ferris, maybe- any information that Will gave him would help to bring about the Rangers' downfall. Meaning that anything Will gleaned from Halt that he told to Ferris might one day end up killing the Ranger. In other words, Will would be killing the Ranger- indirectly, but it would still be his fault in the end.

Will screamed in frustration and kicked at the hay. He was in the stables right then; no one came around at midnight, and it was also far enough removed no one would hear his screams. It was the safest place for him right now.

He couldn't believe he'd been so stupid as to believe...believe...

As to believe someone could've possibly wanted to be his friend. No one had ever really tried before; now the moment someone does, turns out they'd only wanted to use him in a mass murder. Will scoffed and kicked at the hay again. The stable workers were going to flip the next day when they saw how much of a wreck Will had made in the place.

A stab of pain in his side told Will his wound was still there and needed to be healed, along with his bruised ribs. With a sigh, Will pulled up his shirt and examined it. It wasn't too large, thankfully; neither was it all that deep. Will wasn't terribly good with healing, but he didn't have ambrosia at the moment and didn't feel like explaining to Chiron exactly how he'd gotten a nice gash on his side (he'd had a hard enough time explaining that the bloodied lip was from an errant elbow). So, with a sigh, Will put both hands on the wound and concentrated.

Nothing happened at first. Then, slowly, a scab began to form over the wound. Transfixed, Will watched it happen and realized what he'd just done; instead of healing himself instantly, he'd only managed to speed up his regeneration process. It was better than nothing, he supposed. After a few minutes the wound scabbed over completely and stopped bleeding. Now, Will needed to find a new shirt.

Over the three weeks Will had been at camp, he'd gotten several sets of clothing; two more Camp Half-Blood shirts and another pair of jeans from Chiron, a cast-away, ripped pair of skinny jeans from George (when asked why he'd even have had such a thing, George had just shrugged), a Black Veil Brides shirt from one of Will's brothers, and a black hoodie from Ferris. Just thinking about the hoodie caused a sour taste in Will's mouth, but it was his only warm piece of clothing.

The problem? Every single item was in his trunk back in the Apollo cabin. Knowing his siblings, Will knew at least one of them was still up, either surfing the internet (the Hermes kids have figured out a way to get access to the web without attracting monsters) or working on musical compositions. He had no idea how he'd explain the bloodstain on his shirt.

With a sigh, Will stripped off his shirt- wincing at his ribs decidedly told him they had _not_ been healed one bit- and rolled it into a bundle with the stain on the inside, putting the shirt in the crook of his arm and holding it against his side so the scabbed over wound wouldn't be visible. He looked down to check it was passable and started out the door.

The walk to the Apollo cabin took only a few minutes, which Will took to think up what to say to the various questions his cabinmates might have about why he was shirtless and, going by the pain in several parts of his body, bruised. He tried his best not to think about the Stygian Mirror tucked into his pants pocket, nor what he'd be doing with it- assuming Ferris was right and Halt _did_ want him as an apprentice, which Will wasn't too sure about. After all, the only thing Will had ever done was slum around on the streets. He wasn't that good with the bow compared to his siblings, nor did he think he was fit to be a Ranger in any way. He had no idea why Halt would even want him, but Ferris had seemed certain.

"Oh, hey Will! You're up late." One of Will's half-sisters, Mikaela, offered him a tiny wave as he stepped inside. She was doing something on GarageBand, earbuds in her ears. Will had no idea how she'd managed to tell he was coming.

"Why are you shirtless?" one of his younger sisters, a thirteen-year-old named Angie, asked him with a weird look.

"I, um, got some horse dung on it when I went to the stables. I didn't want to wear it back."

"Ew." Without further ado, the two girls went back to work: Mikaela with GarageBand, Angie surfing tumblr. Will gave a quick glance around the cabin. Out of his twenty-six half-siblings, only three more were up: Queenie and Jace were working together on some sort of project- probably another rhyming curse they wanted to use on the Ares cabin- and Alice was playing on her electric keyboard, earbuds in her ears so only she could hear what she was doing. None of them seemed the least bit interested in what Will was doing.

Will slipped quietly back to his bed in the corner of the cabin. He dropped the bloodstained shirt into his trunk and plucked out the Black Veil Brides shirt, hastily putting it on. The sudden movement caused a ripping sensation in his wound that almost made him cry out. He hastily peeked under the shirt to check it was still scabbed over; upon seeing that it was, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Now that that had been dealt with, Will had another problem. He had to make a choice: either he could find Halt, become a Ranger's apprentice, and know he'd be indirectly responsible for the deaths of at least some of the Rangers, any of whom might be innocent...or he could refuse to do that and try to protect his friends from Ferris's wrath. Briefly, the thought of telling Halt or one of the other Rangers about Ferris crossed his mind, but Will barely entertained the idea before casting it aside. Since age seven, he'd learned to trust no one. That had only just be reinforced by Ferris himself. There was no way Will was going to trust anyone, let alone people who had done something terrible to Ferris.

Another thought flicked across his mind: _The enemy of my enemy is my friend._ But no. Will had no friends. He never had, apparently, and he wasn't keen on making any more 'friends' now. As far as Will was concerned, neither Ferris nor the Rangers were worthy of trust.

So what could he do, then? Either way, death was promised, if not certain. Either it was the deaths of an unknown number of Rangers, or it was the deaths of the three people that had treated Will kindly, that Will knew were innocent.

Three innocents against Halt and his Rangers.

Will took a deep breath, shut the trunk, and started back out of the cabin. His choice was clear.

He needed to find Halt.

* * *

Will shivered in the cold, arms wrapping around himself. He had gotten used to the chill of nighttime after so many years on the streets, but now that he'd been warm for three weeks his body was already growing unaccustomed to being cold. It was funny, Will thought, how it had taken him years to grow used to cold but even three weeks had him starting over at the beginning.

"I didn't expect to see you out here, boy."

Will froze and spun around, arms already taking a defensive position as he faced...

"Halt!" He stopped, awkwardly relaxing his stance a little. "Um, sir."

Halt raised one eyebrow. Will tried to decipher what that expression meant; displeasure? Anger? Annoyance? He came up blank. "Why are you out so late?"

Will had the decided urge to ask Halt why _he_ was out so late, but curbed his tongue. "The cabin was stuffy, and it's colder out here," he lied.

Halt gave him a long look. "Did you come out thinking you'd catch a glimpse of your dad?"

"My dad?" Will's eyes widened. "Apollo? He's here?"

Halt's expression was completely unreadable. "Perhaps. If you want to see him, though, you're on your own." Halt pulled his long hood over his head and just like that, he vanished. Will stared at the spot he'd been at last, awestruck. Was that the power of the Rangers? Could they really become invisible?

Then he shook his head. Halt or no Halt, Apollo was at camp. Since Will had just been at the Apollo Cabin, that meant his dad couldn't be there. So where would he be?

Will glanced around camp, running a checklist through his mind. The stables? Probably not. Climbing wall? Most definitely not. The Big House? Maybe.

Will turned his gaze to another section of camp. What about the amphitheater? Surely the god of music and poetry would love being in a place where every sound he made was amplified. In fact, that was likely where the Rangers were stationed; Will distantly remembered hearing Chiron read off all the activities for the cabins that morning, and no one had gotten anything anywhere near the amphitheater- not even the climbing wall. Will had been too relieved about not having to burn his hair that he hadn't really thought about why that was occurring, but now...

He started towards the amphitheater. Then he stopped, surreptitiously glancing around once more. Halt was still out there, Will knew for a fact. The thought that others might be watching him as well- nymphs and other spirits were known for catching campers out of bed late at night- made him cautious. He looked around for cover and grinned when he saw moonbeams making a pattern among the grass and leaves. Will was used to having little to no cover, so the lack of trees wasn't a disadvantage for him at all. He matched his movements to the moonbeams and leaves, weaving his way through them all.

Once he got within hearing distance of the amphitheater, he began hearing lowered voices and grinned again. He'd been right. Dropping all caution, he started moving quicker and forgot all about keeping himself concealed until he was right in front-

A hand grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him backwards. Will barely managed to suppress a cry of terror, already guessing it was Ferris, infuriated he hadn't become Halt's apprentice yet. A frantic apology was already on his lips as he turned around and saw that it was Halt.

"Not bad. For a boy who hasn't had a lick of training in his life, that is."

Will stared dumbly at the Ranger, heart still pounding underneath his aching ribs. "That was a test?"

"I wondered if you were curious enough about your dad to risk this, and if you were, how you'd go about doing it. You were doing alright until you lost caution and stopped moving with nature. That's one of the most crucial parts of being a Ranger: you must always be cautious."

"Moving with...nature?"

"That's what I said," Halt growled, sounding so much like Ferris had earlier that Will flinched, then promptly regretted it as the sharp intake of breath made his ribs throb pointedly. The slightest bit softer, Halt continued, "We generally call it unseen movement. You've already proved proficient at it for someone who's never been trained. It's one of the major things that makes us Rangers."

"How about when you vanished into thin air? Is that a Ranger technique, too?"

"That was unseen movement. I stayed completely still until you lost interest and turned away. My cloak breaks up my shape, makes it harder for the eye to track me. In the darkness, broken up even further by the moonlight, all I had to do was stay motionless and it'd make me impossible to spot."

Will wasn't sure if he liked it more or less that Halt's disappearing act wasn't sourced by magic, but simply by the act of staying still. "You keep talking about Rangers, sir," Will said slowly, knowing he had to cut to the chase quickly if he didn't want Ferris to get angry, "is there a reason?"

"When someone brings something up to you, there usually is a reason for doing so, yes," Halt said mildly but with a hint of annoyance. "I would've thought you'd have guessed it by now."

Will stared blankly, unsure if saying something would arouse Halt's suspicion of Will already knowing.

With a sigh, Halt reached into his cloak and pulled out a letter with CHIRON written on it in strong, masculine handwriting. He gave it to Will, who just stared at it for a second.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Halt asked impatiently. "Open it!"

Trying to control his automatic panic at the raised voice so strangely similar to Ferris's, Will fumbled with the letter, haphazardly tearing it open. A little more carefully he unfolded the paper inside.

 _The boy Will has the potential to be trained as a Ranger. I will accept him as my apprentice._

* * *

 **A/N:** If Halt seems a little harsh in the coming chapters, remember that in the first book, Halt was actually exactly like that. Especially when Will first started training under him, Halt was rather short-tempered and intimidating. Halt does soften up a great deal in the coming books (he's still short-tempered, though), but a large part of what changes their relationship in the beginning is that Will learns how to navigate Halt, if you will. He learns how to decipher Halt's expressions, how to take Halt's criticism, etc. This Will hasn't yet learned that, and Halt hasn't spent enough time with Will to become the softer Halt we're more familiar with.


	5. Chapter 5

Will stared at the letter. The word _apprentice_ ran through his head over and over again. _Apprentice, apprentice, apprentice._ Was he really ready to do this? _Could_ he really do this?

Will clenched his jaw. It wasn't about if he could; it was about what happened if he couldn't. Will would not allow Alyss, George, or Jenny to get hurt.

"You can read, can't you, boy?"

Will had to struggle not to roll his eyes. "Yes, sir."

"Then what's taking so long?"

Will hesitated. Knowing that Halt seemed scarily good at detecting lies, he went with something he'd been thinking earlier. "It's just...I'm not sure you have the right person for this." _Stupid,_ he thought immediately. _If Halt reconsiders, Ferris might kill Alyss anyway out of anger._

"You think I don't know what I'm doing in picking an apprentice?" Halt asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No! That's- that not what I meant at all, sir. It's just, we all make mistakes at some point-"

"I assure you, Will, choosing you to become my apprentice wasn't a mistake on my part." Will bit his lip. If only Halt knew. But he just nodded and looked away, murmuring a 'yes, sir.'

"What is your answer?"

The boy took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He looked straight into Halt's eyes and said, "I will become your apprentice, sir."

Halt nodded, not looking surprised. "Go back to your cabin and pack your things. We leave tomorrow at dawn."

"We're leaving already?" Will asked. "Don't you need to inform your...uh, coworkers?"

"The plan was to leave tomorrow with or without you. If I had to, I would've caught up with them later."

Will nodded. He shuffled around awkwardly, unsure as to whether he'd been dismissed. At a sharp _what are you doing standing around here, boy? Get moving!_ Will bolted off in the direction of his cabin.

Upon getting there, he saw that two more of his siblings had gone to bed, leaving only Angie, Mikaela, and Queenie up. None of them even acknowledged his presence as he came in. With a sigh, Will went to his trunk once more and pulled out his meager belongings. Since minor quests were known to happen every year or so, Chiron supplied each camper with a backpack in case they didn't have one of their own. Will stuffed his few pairs of pants and shirts into the bag and zipped it shut. He had no other possessions; he'd learned early on that the more things one owned, the harder it was to keep them.

Will stood up and slung the backpack over his shoulders. As he scooped up his canteen, he briefly considered saying goodbye to his siblings, but all of the ones he was closest with were asleep. Besides, it wasn't like any of them would really miss him.

Still...it seemed cruel to leave without saying goodbye and to rely on Chiron to tell them what happened. Will looked around and saw one of his siblings' notepads strewn on the floor along with a colorful assortment of gel pens. Hastily ripping off a page, he scrawled a note telling what had happened, where he'd be and that he would miss them. Mason, the demigod that had given Will his guitar, would probably be surprised when he woke up the next morning with the guitar next to his bed and the note on top.

With that accomplished, Will gave one last glance to the cabin that had sheltered him for three weeks. "Goodbye," he whispered.

He walked down the aisle and out the door.

* * *

"I wasn't expecting you to come back tonight," was Halt's greeting as Will strolled back to the amphitheater, backpack on his shoulders. "I thought you'd want to sleep on a bed one last time."

Will shrugged and didn't respond. What he wanted to say- what was itching on his tongue- was that he'd gone six years without a bed, and his entire life before Camp Half-Blood without a good bed. Sleeping on the ground was no hardship. But saying that might raise questions Will was unwilling to answer, so he kept silent. He sensed Halt's annoyance at his silence but couldn't bring himself to care. Should he really even try to impress the person Ferris was going to murder in a few months?

"Well, since you're here, just make yourself at home." Had it been from anyone else, Will might've thought they were being sarcastic; the stone-stepped amphitheater lined with sleeping bags at the bottom was about as far from a home as Will could imagine. Even still, Will nodded and started down the steps. Once he reached the floor of the amphitheater, he set his backpack down and curled onto his side in an area as far away from the sleeping Rangers as possible. Within a few minutes, he fell asleep.

The next morning he was woken up by a rough shake of the shoulder. All too accustomed to being woken up in that fashion by police officers, Will surged to his feet and jumped backwards, adrenaline already pumping as his flight instincts kicked in.

"A bit light on your feet, aren't you?" The voice and face before Will was neither a policeman nor, like Will's next guess was, Halt. It appeared to be a younger man, perhaps in his twenties. He was far taller than Will and sported a mischievous grin. "Halt told me to wake you up. We're moving out now."

Suddenly, Will remembered seeing a bunch of shaggy horses in the stables last night- horses that most definitely had not been there before. With a sinking feeling, Will realized that those horses must be the Rangers' horses... which meant they either expected him to follow on foot, they'd brought a spare, or they wanted him to ride double with another Ranger. "Um, Ranger-"

"Just call me Gilan. There's no need for formalities."

"-Gilan, do I...am I going to be given a horse?"

Something sparkled in Gilan's eyes. "You're pretty quick, figuring that out. We wanted to bring along a horse for you, but Halt wouldn't allow it. He said you should be the one who picks out your horse, so...you have two choices. Either you can ride double with Halt or you can ride with me. I don't think any of the other Rangers would like having someone else ride their horse."

"Are you...close with Halt?" Will asked slowly. The two didn't look similar, but...

Gilan laughed. "You could say that. I was his apprentice. Had to spend five years with him, so I suppose you could say we're pretty close."

"Five years?" Will gasped out, eyes wide. When he'd agreed to the apprenticeship he hadn't known it would take _five years._

Of course, Halt would probably be dead within the first year, so Will didn't really need to worry.

"Yeah." Gilan adjusted his pack. "Some take more, some less, but five years is generally the amount of time needed to become a Ranger."

"Was my dad really here like Halt said?" Upon seeing Gilan's confused expression, Will hastily elaborated. "Was Apollo here? What's he look like? Is he nice? How about-"

"Woah, slow down," Gilan told him, grinning. "No, Apollo wasn't here. That was just a test from Halt to see what you'd do when given the chance to meet him and how you'd go about doing it. Obviously, you did something right or you wouldn't be here right now."

"Oh." Will deflated at the knowledge it'd been a trick. Even Gilan's following words about having done something well weren't enough to restore him. "Have you met Apollo?"

"Of course. Every full-fledged Ranger has met him at least once. He presides over the Ranger initiation ceremony, where fifth-year apprentices are tested one final time and become Rangers."

"What's he like?" Will asked, curiosity suddenly roused now that it wasn't an older, intimidating Ranger he was asking questions to. "Do I look like him? Is he a really good archer? Oh, do you know what he thinks of me?"

"Apollo's...well, he's a god," Gilan said slowly. "I can't really say any more than that. And, well, gods can change their forms at will so it's hard to say if you look like him. You have something of the facial features of his preferred form, though, and you have the same presence. You both walk the same way, too."

Will smiled a little. Even if he never met his mother and only interacted with his father on special occasions, it was nice to know he had some of his father with him, inside him. Then he realized Gilan hadn't answered his last question. As he opened his mouth to ask it again however, he suddenly stopped. For some reason, he had a feeling Gilan hadn't just forgotten about answering it; he hadn't wanted to answer it. Either it was because he didn't know, or it was because...he did know. And he didn't want to tell Will.

A little more subdued, Will asked instead, "When are we leaving?"

"Well, we'd like to leave soon but Halt told me to make sure you got breakfast, so..."

Will's brows furrowed. Why would Halt care about something like that? He hadn't thought the older Ranger would care one way or another how many meals Will got as long as he was still fit to train. "That's okay," he said hurriedly, awkwardly. "I've gone without before, I can do it again. I don't want to slow everyone down."

"Nonsense," Gilan retorted. "You're eating, and that's that. You're a growing boy and you need your food."

Will considered protesting again but Gilan shot him a glare and that really was that. He let Gilan guide him by the arm (trying not to flinch away from the touch) to the tent in the middle of the makeshift camp. Gilan pushed aside the flaps and led him inside, allowing Will to look around. It was bigger than Will had thought; enough for fifteen people to fit rather comfortably. The aforementioned fifteen people were sitting cross-legged on the ground, eating what looked to be stew. By each Ranger's side sat a small, golden tin.

"Gilan, what happened?" Will asked softly, pointing to several of the Rangers who were eating squares of ambrosia from the tins.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, aren't they injured? Why else would they be eating it?"

Gilan shook his head. "You know Rangers are immortal, right? Well, we can take a lot more ambrosia than mortals can, so a lot of us like eating ambrosia and drinking nectar even when uninjured."

Will would've asked more questions- like why they'd think eating something that to Will tasted rather like sawdust was a good thing- but he was prevented when one of the Rangers looked his way. Halt.

"I see you've finally come to join us, boy."

Will briefly wondered if Halt even knew his name. Surely he'd know the name of his own apprentice? "Yes, sir."

"Oh, you're Halt's new apprentice?" Will looked and saw a new voice. He had reddish hair, elfish features and a grin that could rival Gilan's in mischief. "Come sit with us and have breakfast. We'll be leaving soon and this will be the last time to get food for a while."

Another Ranger was already ladling stew into a new bowl, which he handed over to Will. The boy murmured a quick thanks before awkwardly looking around for an open fire. "Do you...uh, are we supposed to...?" He motioned to his bowl, then the fire. The Rangers just stared at him blankly. "Um," he became aware he was rapidly turning red, "At Camp Half-Blood, before every meal, we..."

"Oh!" That was the red-haired Ranger. "No, we don't sacrifice to any gods. Apollo thinks our service to him a sacrifice enough- except on special occasions, of course- and we don't want to anger him by sacrificing to any other god."

Still flushing, Will nodded and sat down next to Gilan. He quickly dug into his food with the spoon Gilan wordlessly handed him.

Now that Will had walked in and sat down, conversation slowly started back up. Halt, along with the red-haired Ranger and two others seemed engaged in intense conversation going by the tense looks on their faces, but the rest of the Rangers seemed fairly lighthearted. Several of them were laughing, with Gilan the loudest of all, somehow managing to tell jokes and eat his food at the same time. After awhile Will became aware of the close comradery between each and every one of them. They were a close-knit group, closer even than the cabins at Camp Half-Blood, and Will couldn't help but notice just how much he failed to fit in. Both at Camp Half-Blood, and with the Rangers. He never belonged, it seemed.

When Will was several spoonfuls away from being finished, Halt and the three Rangers who'd been talking to him stood up. As if that were some sort of signal, everybody else put down their bowls and closed their tins, then stood up as well. Will hastily scooped the last few spoonfuls into his mouth and did the same. A Ranger that looked to be in his 40s held out his hands and the Rangers all passed their bowls to him; after a moment's hesitation, Will followed.

The Ranger held a bowl in one hand and put his other over it. He closed his eyes, seeming to be concentrating, and water shot out of his hand. Will leaped back in surprise and bumped into Gilan.

"Don't worry, he does this all the time," Gilan said lowly. "We'd never let Bartell handle our bowls if he didn't know what he was doing."

Within seconds, the magical power-wash of the bowl was over, leaving it somehow clean and pristine. Bartell repeated the action with each bowl, including Will's own. Throughout the process, Will marveled at how the water never seemed to leave the bowl, swirling round in a circle but somehow managing to clean each bowl perfectly. Once he'd finished with the last bowl, he started throwing each one to its owner, somehow remembering which each one belonged to until he got to the last one. Bartell's brows briefly furrowed and he glanced around; then his eyes alighted on Will, his countenance cleared, and he chucked the wooden bowl straight at Will.

Caught by surprise, Will nevertheless managed to catch it perfectly in one hand, thanking Apollo for his reflexes. "How did he do that?" Will asked Gilan softly as he stared down at his now clean and dry bowl, eyes flicking to Bartell, who'd by then turned and begun walking out of the tent.

"Son of a powerful nereid, I've heard," Gilan responded. "He has amazing control over water."

Will opened his mouth, about to let loose a torrent of questions, but was this time stopped by Halt. "We're leaving now," he told Will and granted the boy a look. After a few seconds, Will belatedly realized Halt was waiting for him to say with whom he wanted to ride with.

The question was, who _did_ Will want to ride with? From the confidence Halt had shown in both himself and the Rangers, as well as how he and three other Rangers had been the only four to seem solemn (although Will wasn't sure if Halt could be anything other than that) and had seemed to be planning or discussing something important, it seemed he was at least fairly important in the Rangers. Which meant he'd be the one to get information from.

On the flipside, Will had five years with Halt. He had plenty of time to learn that stuff. Gilan already seemed a lot nicer than Halt; he laughed a lot, had pulled a prank during breakfast, and had answered all Will's questions cheerfully. If Will had to pick which would be the more pleasant to ride with, Gilan won hands-down. Never mind that Will didn't want to ride with either; for his entire life with few exceptions, physical contact was related to injury, usually on Will's part. He wondered if he could run beside the horses before deciding that the Rangers most likely wouldn't be happy with him slowing them down any more.

"I'd like to ride with Gilan, sir," Will said a little timidly. Would Halt be offended he didn't want to spend any more time with him than necessary? Or would he be pleased _he_ didn't have to spend any more time with Will than necessary?

Halt didn't give an opinion; even his face was impassive as he looked to Gilan and raised an eyebrow- in question, Will guessed, but Halt was so hard to read he wasn't sure. Gilan nodded. "I offered him earlier. I didn't think he'd want to ride with an old guy like you." Halt's eyes narrowed a little into an expression that would've sent Will running, but Gilan just accepted it with a sunny grin.

"Alright. I'll be with Crowley at the back." He strode away without waiting for a response.

Gilan whistled. "He's a little grumpy, isn't he?"

"You mean he's not normally like this?" Will asked slowly, jogging after Gilan to the stables. Somehow, the way Halt acted seemed normal for him.

"Oh, he's always grumpy," Gilan said breezily, "He's just being grumpier than usual. Crowley must've been making fun of you."

"Making fun of me? Why would that make him annoyed? And who's Crowley?"

"Crowley's that redhead Ranger who told you to come in," Gilan told him, slipping into the stables soundlessly. Will realized that, on the way there, he couldn't recall Gilan making a single sound other than that of his voice. Gilan motioned to the Ranger in question, currently saddling his horse. "Crowley's our leader. Son of Hermes, so he loves doing pranks and making fun of people. Doesn't mean it badly, of course, but Halt's been rather tense for a few days now and he sees an offense to his apprentice as an offense to him."

So that was why. That made sense; of course Halt wasn't getting offended over him. Will stood back as Gilan approached his horse- taller than any other horse, just as Gilan was taller than any other Ranger- and tacked it up.

"What's your horse's name?" Will asked suddenly. "I mean...it does have a name, right?"

"Of course," Gilan told him as he tightened the saddle girth, sounding offended. "Ranger horses are as much a part of us as our laurel wreaths. Her name is Blaze." Will had a few more questions about that, but they remained unasked as he didn't want to accidentally offend Gilan any more than he already had. "It'll be a little uncomfortable for you to sit behind me, so you'll be sitting in front," Gilan continued as he led Blaze out of her stall. "Don't worry about keeping your balance; I can hold onto you."

Will had never ridden a horse in his life, but the idea of someone touching him for hours on end made his stomach turn. "N-No, that's fine," he stammered quickly. "I can keep my balance."

"You've ridden, then?" Gilan whispered something into Blaze's ear, then motioned for Will to mount.

"Uh...no, not exactly..."

"Well, Apollo kids aren't half bad with horses, so you should be okay. Apollo and Poseidon, the creator of horses, have always been on fairly good terms so you should get along with Blaze. Go on, mount up."

Will hesitantly put his foot in the stirrup and swung up, surprising himself with the ease which he did so. Remembering Gilan's instructions, he scooted up in front of the saddle and waited for Gilan to get up. Once he had, Gilan flicked the reins slightly and Blaze moved forward, falling into line behind the other Ranger horses. Will looked out at Camp Half-Blood as they cantered through the fields, flashing past the buildings and moving up Half-Blood Hill. Will gave the camp one last glance as they descended the hill and murmured a goodbye too quiet for Gilan to hear.


	6. Chapter 6

"How good are you with a bow, boy?"

"Not very," Will confessed. "Chiron tried to show me some things but I'm still not very accurate."

Halt picked up a bow- recurve, like the one Will had been using at Camp Half-Blood- and handed it to Will. "We'll start you with this. Once you're strong enough, you can upgrade to a longbow like mine, but that'll take at least until you're a full-fledged Ranger."

Will took it and nocked an arrow. He started to draw it back but was stopped almost immediately by Halt.

"Don't hold the arrow with your thumb and finger. Hold it between your second and third fingers. It makes for a more secure grip." Halt demonstrated with his own bow, then nodded to Will who copied as best he could. He briefly showed Will how to nock, saying Chiron had a different, less efficient archery style than the Rangers, then mimicked a release. The arrow flew and hit the tree they were practicing on squarely. "Try again."

Will did so, but was once again stopped before he could reach full draw.

"You're using the wrong set of muscles. Don't only use your arm muscles; they're too weak to withstand the strain of firing continuously alone. Pull with these muscles." Halt tapped at the muscles beneath Will's shoulder blades. Like usual, Will tensed at the sudden contact. "Try again."

Will tried once more. At the last second before release, a gust of wind blew a flurry of leaves around him. Distracted, Will lost sight of his target and let the arrow release too sharply. The string snapped into the skin of his arm and Will let out a low, strangled hiss but still kept hold of his weapon. Halt cast him a hard to read look- surprise, perhaps- but merely said, "I take it Chiron didn't give you a cuff, either?"

"He did, but we were supposed to take them off at the end of the lesson. Some of the Apollo kids have their own, but I don't." He wasn't quite sure why he had tagged on that last sentence; to make Halt pity him? Surely not.

"You'll be getting your own now," Halt decided, reaching into the bag he'd brought with them into the forest and taking out a leather cuff. Will eyed it, not sure if he wanted to put it on the rapidly swelling welt on his forearm. Finally he did so, not wanting to risk Halt growing impatient and putting it on Will himself. The pain had thankfully subsided quickly, but the cuff still aggravated it enough Will had to bite his lip against another hiss.

"Again."

This time Will managed to hit the tree, his arrow hitting the bark only an inch or two away from Halt's. "Not bad," the Ranger told him, before motioning him to put down his bow. "You can practice that later. For now..." Halt reached into the bag again and brought out a double scabbard with two differing sized knives in it. "These are a Ranger's knives." Will took the scabbard from him and inspected it carefully. The knives were set one above the other, the top knife shorter and the bottom longer and heavier.

"Take it out," Halt instructed, then added, "Carefully." Having never handled knives in his life (the Apollo cabin favored bows, and only bows, even in capture the flag), Will just nodded and slid the top knife out. He gasped.

It was an odd shape: narrow at the hilt, then tapering out sharply into a broad blade for three-quarters its length and finally tapering back in again to a point. The shape, however, was not why he gasped. It was the color.

Black. So black it seemed to absorb the light around it.

Stygian iron.

Will refrained from looking at Halt. "What kind of knife is this?"

"It's a throwing knife. The extra weight of the blade balances out the hilt." Will sensed Halt looking at him curiously.

"Is this...Stygian iron?" Will asked slowly. "I thought only the children of Hades could handle it."

Halt shook his head. "That's what people think, but any demigod or child of an immortal can handle it. Rangers prefer to use it over anything else because it doesn't give off the gleam celestial bronze does. You just have to be careful you don't cut yourself on it; it leeches off of any living thing except children of the underworld."

"Oh." Will carefully slid the knife back into its sheath.

"Once you're a Ranger, you won't have to worry about that anymore, though. In addition to immortality, Apollo adds in a few bonuses. Not being affected by Stygian iron is one of those, since he knows our weapons are made of it."

Next, Will slid the bigger knife out its sheath. Unlike the other it didn't taper but remained approximately the same size throughout. It was sharp on one edge, dull on the other.

"We call them saxe knives."

"Why saxe?"

"Ancient raiders called them sea axes. Over time, it got shortened into saxe. Now," motioning to the scabbard, "do you know how to strap that on?"

Will didn't, but was reluctant to say so. Halt eyed him until Will finally broke. "No, sir."

"I didn't think so," Halt said and motioned Will to pull up his shirt. He showed Will how to buckle it in and tighten it so his hand fell naturally to the weapons. "Keep this on you at all times, except when you're asleep. Keep it beside you then."

Will nodded.

"Now that you have that, all you've got to do is learn to use them. And you know how you're going to do that?"

Despite himself, Will grinned. "Practice," he said. "A lot of practice."

It was Sunday, six days after Will had become Halt's apprentice and five after he'd begun training. The approaching meeting with Ferris the next day put him in a bad mood the moment he woke up. He was stiff and sore from training as well as bruised from all the times he'd stumbled into trees the previous day (Halt had blindfolded him to, as he put it 'learn how to navigate without sight'). In addition to all that, he had barely gotten a wink of sleep that night. But when he sleepily walked through his bedroom and out of Halt's cabin, he was surprised to see Halt was in the process of saddling his horse.

"What are you doing?" Will asked immediately. "Are you going somewhere? Where?"

 _"We_ are going to get you a horse," Halt told him, not even glancing backwards. "You've enough familiarity with the bow that I thought it was time to introduce you to another part of your training. Besides, this is a dangerous world and your unseen movement, is, well, rather seen. You need to be able to make a quick escape if necessary."

Will grinned at the thought of his new horse being part of his training. Halt was right about his unseen movement; although he was good at passing through crowds unnoticed, it was an entirely different thing altogether to be unnoticeable in forests or places where no other people were. He'd already had to relearn a few things, but couldn't bring himself to mind. Everything he learned (except the map-work Halt had given him on Friday) so far had been so _interesting,_ so much better than anything he'd experienced before. Despite himself, he was drawn in by the Rangers and their way of living. But at the end of the day, he always had to re-distance himself.

After all, he doubted any Ranger would want him for an apprentice after it came out he'd betrayed them.

If there were even any Rangers left after Ferris got through with them.

By the time Will had finished with his morbid reflections, Halt had saddled Abelard and seemed to be looking at him expectantly. Not quite comprehending what Halt wanted, Will said slowly, "Yes, sir?"

"Get on." Halt motioned to Abelard. "I've already told him it's alright." On the way over before Gilan had had to leave for Delaware, the state he was stationed in, Gilan had told Will that each Ranger horse had a codeword that had to be spoken if the person wanted to ride them. Gilan had whispered the codeword and told Blaze to let Will on; Halt must've just done the same for Abelard.

Will eyed Abelard dubiously. As Halt was a much smaller person than Gilan, Abelard was also much smaller than Blaze. Will had been uncomfortable enough riding with Gilan, the Ranger he could almost say he was friends with, but riding a smaller horse meant he'd be even closer to the rider behind him. Not to mention that that rider was _Halt..._

"Oh I'd, uh, I'd rather walk," Will said, flushing as his tongue tangled partway through and he had to re-say each word slowly. "I'm sure Abelard won't like having to carry an extra person."

"Old Bob lives all the way down in Virginia," Halt said firmly, and Will's face fell at the news. "Ranger horses are bred from Poseidon's best and are far faster and more enduring than mortal horses, meaning there's no way you'd be able to keep up with Abelard. If I push Abelard to full speed, we could get there in a few hours, even with you on his back."

Will wilted. Although he'd never actually been to Virginia, he knew that it would take hours by car to get from New York to Virginia. From all the mapwork he'd been doing, it would probably take around the same time to get from Pennsylvania to Virginia, which meant Abelard would be traveling faster than a car. Will would most likely be sitting in front of Halt, on Abelard's neck with nothing of his own holding him on the horse except his leg muscles.

Translation: Halt would, most likely, be holding him at some point in the ride. Halt would be touching him for several hours on end- worse, he'd be behind Will so Will would have no idea what was going on. He'd be unknowing and trapped. Will had learned years ago that nothing was worse than those two things; it could get you killed in the blink of an eye.

But then he looked at Halt and realized the Ranger would not yield. Will would ride Abelard, and that was that. He would have to trust that Halt wouldn't hurt him in some way, and endure the discomfort and nausea that accompanied being touched without his consent.

Basically, this was going to be a great trip.

With a sigh, Will swung onto Abelard and scooted forward. Halt mounted next and took the reins. He then slung an arm around Will and pulled him backwards so the boy was closer to him, explaining as he did so, "If I'm not holding onto you, you'll be tossed from Abelard in seconds. The only reason I can stay on him when he's going full speed is that Ranger saddles are enchanted to never let its occupant fall out." Something in Halt's tone seemed...apologetic, maybe? Had he realized how much Will disliked being touched?

Will just nodded resignedly and tried to relax a little as Halt nudged Abelard into a trot, then canter, then full sprint. On their ride back, the Rangers had kept their horses to a much slower speed- still not one Will could keep up with on foot, but slower- since some of the fifteen Rangers that had come along (Halt had stated they'd been on a mission and had dropped by Camp Half-Blood to pick up Will at the end of it) had to journey all the way to Florida or Texas and they didn't want to exhaust their horses. This new speed was exhilarating, and the knowledge he'd be getting a horse that could do this was exhilarating as well.

Minutes flashed by. Abelard burned up ground faster than Will had ever seen a car drive (although since he'd only been out of New York City a few times, that wasn't saying much) and Will grudgingly admitted that, had Halt not been holding him, he indeed would've fallen off in seconds. After Halt had told Abelard where to go, he'd loosely held the reins in one hand and pulled both arms around Will, holding the boy in something almost like a hug. It was awkward, tense, and uncomfortable probably not just for Will, but despite himself he felt gratitude swell up in his chest that the grizzled Ranger had taken it upon himself to do it. Sure, it was only because he didn't want an apprentice to get killed like any decent person wouldn't and not because he cared for Will any beyond how a stranger would, but Halt could've just told him to grab Abelard's neck or something else that would've been a little more dangerous for Will and not as awkward for Halt as this must've been.

After a few minutes, Abelard's steady gait began to lull Will towards sleep. As he had slept barely at all the night before and only sparingly in the nights before, he was tired- exhausted, even. Within minutes he found himself falling asleep.

A few hours later, Will abruptly jerked awake and realized he must've dozed off. He was instantly horrified- how in Hades could he have gotten comfortable enough to have fallen asleep in someone's grip? Then with even more horror, he realized he was leaning against Halt's chest, legs dangling like limp noodles. The only thing that could've possibly kept him on Abelard for- Will glanced at the sky- at least two hours was...

As though Halt had realized Will was awake, the tight grip he'd had around Will loosened. "You need to be more vigilant, boy," he said gruffly. "You would've taken a bad fall if you'd been alone."

Why hadn't Halt woken him? Surely that would've been easier for Halt than having to single-handedly keep the equivalent of a limp body on a horse for hours on end.

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I didn't realize you were asleep until a few minutes ago," Halt said briefly, in a tone that Will knew by now was his 'don't ask me anymore questions' one. Will's brows furrowed in confusion. Halt noticed _everything;_ there was no way he wouldn't have noticed Will's body going limp in sleep.

"But..." he started, then stopped. There was only one explanation, he realized. Halt _knew_ he'd been asleep...and had chosen not to wake him up. Why? Will wished he could get a good look at the Ranger's face, but even if he could, it probably would've been just as hard to read as ever.

So, resigning himself to never knowing, Will pulled himself off of Halt. "How much longer until we get there?" he asked in his best approximation of a normal tone, hoping that by asking questions he'd be able to return to his normal, curious self.

"Not long. An hour or so." Halt paused, then asked, "What time is it?"

"Uh..." Will frantically looked up at the sun. "Around 9:00?"

"Are you asking me, or telling me?"

Will looked back at the sun. "Around 9:00," he answered, carefully taking the questioning tone out.

Halt gave no answer, but since he didn't correct Will the boy knew he'd answered right. The next hour of the trip passed in total, but not quite as awkward, silence. Will tried to suppress his embarrassment over falling asleep by looking around him at the city flashing by in a blur, and within no time Halt was reining in his horse to a stop.

Halt unceremoniously dismounted, leaving Will with a mixture of relief and loss as the Ranger's arms came off. Not wishing to dwell on why he felt that way, Will followed as the Ranger led Abelard into the stable next to the cabin they'd stopped in front of, loosening the girth but not taking either the saddle or the bridle off. On their way out they were met with a rather unkempt, smelly man with a wide grin.

"Morning to you, Ranger!" said the man. "I see you've brung me the new apprentice, have you?"

Halt nodded. "This is Will," he said briefly. "Will, this is Old Bob."

Unsure how to react, Will nodded politely and said, "Nice to meet you, sir."

Old Bob cackled. "Calls me sir! Hear that, Ranger, this one calls me sir! Make a fine Ranger, he will!"

Will barely caught himself from reacting to the last sentence. Instead, he smiled; less forced than he'd thought it would be. After all, Will was used to smell and the fact Old Bob was one of the first people Will had seen not treat Halt with deference automatically made Will like him. Other than Gilan and Crowley, no one had spoken to him in such a familiar tone- even other Rangers treated him with respect almost approaching reverence.

In keeping with the reverential air that was expected of him, Halt grunted. "Do you have a horse ready?"

"Ready indeed!" said Old Bob. "Step this way and see them." Motioning with a hand, he led the two behind the cabin, where a sizable paddock stood. It was large enough to hold as many as a dozen horses, but Will saw only one out- he guessed the others must have been in a different paddock, perhaps. "There 'e is, see?"

Will did indeed see. The horse trotting up to them was more a pony than a horse. Like Abelard, he was small and shaggy, with hard, wiry muscles half-hidden underneath his coat and bright eyes that spoke of an intelligence more than any horse owned by mortals.

"This 'un's called Tug," Old Bob told him. "He looks about your size, don't he?"

After having seen what Ranger horses could do- specifically, what Abelard could do- Will wasn't as judgmental of the rather unimpressive appearance Tug had. Although he knew nothing of horses, he could see that Tug regarded him with large, intelligent eyes and that he looked strong and fit- in the Ranger horse way. Will looked around and picked an apple out of a nearby barrel. He handed it to Tug who crunched on it immediately.

As he regarded Tug, still a little dubious despite what he'd seen of Ranger horses, the little horse butted his shoulder gently. There seemed to be a message of sorts in his eyes. _I may not be very big, but I might just surprise you._

"Well, what do you think of him?" Halt asked a little impatiently.

"He's...small," Will said after a pause. Then, fearing he might offend Old Bob, he hastily tacked on, "But he looks strong, too. Rather like Abelard."

"Indeed he is," Bob agreed heartily. "One of the best 'uns I've bred. Only the best for Halt's apprentice, after all." Halt grunted again, making Old Bob chuckle. "Have you ridden 'fore, boy?"

Will shook his head. "No, sir."

"Well, go on and saddle 'im up. 'E seems to like you well enough."

Will considered. It didn't occur to him until several seconds had gone by that he might should look at Halt to see what the Ranger wanted him to do; after all, Halt was the one that fed him and trained him. When he finally made eye contact with Halt, he nodded. Old Bob opened the gate and handed Will Tug's halter, which he then proceeded to futilely pull on for a minute or so until Halt took pity on him and told him the correct way to get Tug to follow him.

Once back at the stables, Old Bob showed Will how to properly tack up his horse. Will had learned a little of it both during his stay at Camp Half-Blood and from watching Halt, but he'd never been given the full run through so listened attentively. After that was accomplished, Will whispered Tug's code word and mounted up. With a gentle nudge, Tug was off.

Despite his round, unassuming appearance, Will instantly sensed the rock hard muscles underneath his legs and grinned. "Oh, you're a fast one, aren't you?" he whispered, bending down so his voice could be better heard by Tug. The horse, seeming to understand Will, nickered and tossed his head. With a little more prodding from Halt and Old Bob, Will nudged Tug first to a canter, then gallop. He was suddenly glad the paddock was so large; Tug covered ground so swiftly it was almost frightening. Sensing the older men were still watching him but finding himself caring less and less, Will pushed Tug still faster.

He remembered feeling the exhilaration of Abelard's trip and decided this was much better. Riding Tug was like flying: the little horse's hooves barely seemed to touch the ground before they were off again. Will laughed out loud out of sheer joy. He gently applied pressure to the right rein and grinned broadly as Tug instantly veered to the right, doing a neat turn and racing back to Halt and Old Bob again. It felt like mere seconds passed before he pulled Tug to a halt in front of them.

"He's amazing!" Will blurted before he could think to stop himself, nearly bouncing out of his saddle. "He runs faster than the wind, I bet."

"Not quite as fast," Halt put in, "But he could put up a competition."

"He can keep up a pace a notch below that all day," Bob put in. "Boy rides him well too, doesn't 'e Halt?"

Halt rubbed his bearded chin thoughtfully. "Not too badly," he conceded.

Old Bob was scandalized. "Not too badly?" he repeated, looking more offended for Will than Will was for himself. "You're a hard man, Halt! Not many's had a good first ride, even with the enchanted saddles. This 'un's a good 'un. Make a good team with Tug, he will."

Will grinned at the praise and went to dismount before stopping. "Wait, I don't have to say the code again before I get off, do I?" He couldn't remember either Gilan or Halt doing it, but maybe it was just a first time thing.

Old Bob chuckled. "No. Once said, Tug'll remember it forever."

Relieved, Will dismounted. He reached into the apple barrel again and gave another to Tug then looked up at Halt.

"Now that we have what we came for," the Ranger said, "We'd best be going." He inclined his head to Old Bob. "Thank you for doing a good job with this one. He looks to be one of your best yet."

The three exchanged parting words. Will led his new horse back to the stable and watched as Halt tightened Abelard's girth strap and swung back on. Will copied, and the two urged their horses to a gallop.

"I want to speak with Ferris, son of Hades." Will put the pitch-black mirror into the deepest shadow of his room and desperately hoped it wouldn't work. Sadly, the mirror shone a slightly lighter black before Ferris's face appeared through the surface.

"Will," he greeted. "I see you remembered."

Will nodded. Seeing Ferris again after everything the older boy had done was making Will nauseous.

"Well, what have you to report? Names, places, hierarchy, dates, anything."

Will gulped. He'd been agonizing about having to do this the whole week. After yesterday when he'd gotten Tug, it had become even worse. Already, Will could barely imagine life without his horse. How could he possibly betray not only the Rangers, but Tug?

But he didn't have a choice.

So Will opened his mouth, and he pushed his guilt down. He looked into Ferris's dark, insanity-glimmering eyes. And twenty minutes later, Will tucked the mirror back into a hidden floorboard and felt his soul ache with the knowledge of what he'd done.

* * *

 **A/N:** am I updating too often? I hate to be that author that's always blowing up your notifications just because I have way too much free time on my hands and writing's the only thing I like doing.

Also, in honor of today: blaze it, y'all.


	7. Chapter 7

"How gifted are you with Apollo's powers?"

It had been two months now since Will had begun his apprenticeship. Since then, he had trained diligently in the arts of archery, knife-wielding, tactics, horsemanship, and unseen movement. His relationship with Halt had remained much the same; every time Will came close to dropping the 'sir' or the 'Ranger,' he had another meeting with Ferris (the son of Hades had moved the meeting to every two weeks) and remembered that he couldn't- wouldn't- allow himself to get close to the man for whose death he'd one day be responsible.

Guilt always has a way of putting a damper on things, after all.

Will lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "I've never really tried anything. What are his powers?"

"Most demigods are only gifted with a few of their parent's powers, but Apollo has a very wide range. His powers include archery, healing, prophecy, controlling fire, the ability to curse people, musical talent, and controlling light." On the last, Will gave an involuntary jolt. He suddenly remembered the hellhound that had attacked him and the way he'd defended himself. "No demigod has ever been known to have the last one, though."

"Oh." Will looked curiously up at Halt. "Who's your godly parent? Is it Apollo, too?"

Halt scowled at him. "I don't recall that being any of your business to know."

Two months ago, Will probably would've laid it to rest, but Will had slowly begun to learn which of Halt's expression meant actual danger and which were only meant to scare him away. This was one of the latter. "Is it Ares, then? You knew Horace's full name when you stopped him from, uh," Will flushed and trailed off.

"Why must you ask so many questions? Does it matter who my parent is?"

"Well, not really but-"

"Then don't ask."

Will deflated a little. "So how are we going to know which powers I have?"

"You should already have had some of them show," Halt told him. "You have natural talent in archery-" Will tried not to grin- "so that's one. Do you sing? Or play an instrument?"

"Some of my siblings taught me how to play guitar," Will said a little unwillingly. "They said I picked it up pretty fast."

There it was again: Halt's famous unreadable look. Will had no idea what he'd said to make Halt make that expression. Was he annoyed Will had wasted time learning something like that? Did he think Will should've already put time into playing an instrument? After a moment, Halt nodded and his expression cleared to its normal grim look. "What about prophecy, healing, and curses?"

"I've never tried to foretell anything," Will shrugged. "I didn't know I could."

"It's not foretelling so much as foreknowledge," Halt explained. "Have you ever known something was going to happen, even though you had no logical reason to?"

"Er...maybe?" Will shifted. He hadn't seen Ferris's betrayal or trickery coming at all, but... "Sometimes when I'm fighting someone, I can sense what they're going to do before they do it. I thought I was just good at reading people's movements, though."

"Could be," Halt said, shrugging. "Could be you have the gift of prophecy." He gave Will a look to continue.

"I've, well..." Will flushed. "The Apollo cabin likes cursing the Ares cabin to speak in rhyming couplets. Only Lily can curse people by herself, though. The rest of us need to all work together."

Halt raised an eyebrow. Will shrank back a little sheepishly. "It's completely harmless," he mumbled in defense, "It's just really funny hearing them cuss us out in rhyme." Will cleared his throat, then hastily went on, "I've never tried healing anybody else, but I did manage to heal myself."

Halt's eyebrow raised higher. For the Ranger, it was the equivalent of a surprised expression. Will shuffled his feet and continued, "I got a...I was watching the Ares and Athena kids fight and got too close accidentally and got hit. I...I somehow managed to heal it over to a scab wound without eating ambrosia."

The Ranger nodded slowly, studying Will intensely. "I've never heard of that happening before. Well, we'll start you with healing minor things." Halt pulled back his cloak and pushed up his sleeves, revealing a plethora of bruises similar to the ones Will sported- most likely from the hand-to-hand sparring session they'd had yesterday. "Many Apollo children have to sing a hymn to Apollo in order to heal, but try healing without it first."

Will looked uncertainly at the Ranger, but his expression was clearly expectant. The apprentice took a deep breath and placed his hands barely an inch from Halt's bare arms and focused. He could vaguely feel something tingling in the back of his mind, close to the same feeling he'd felt on that day with the hellhound. Carefully pushing the latter away, Will concentrated on the bruises on Halt's arm and thought a silent prayer to Apollo.

A warm feeling settled itself over Will, like his father was watching and approved. As if someone else was moving his body, Will felt his hands make contact with Halt's skin and a blaze of energy pass from him to Halt. He jerked back instantly, eyes wide, backing away as far as he could get from the Ranger as possible.

Halt's face remained impassive, per usual, but Will thought he could almost read some kind of emotion guarded inside the older man's eyes. The Ranger's eyes flicked first to Will, then to his arm. Despite himself, Will scooted closer again, unable to resist seeing if he'd done anything.

The Ranger's arm was still bruised. Will felt a palpable shade of disappointment but then he heard the slightest sound of surprise from Halt and looked again. Yes, the Ranger's arm was still bruised. But in an area the exact shape of Will's hand, it was completely unblemished. Even a scar Will had noticed before was gone, which must've been why Halt had been surprised.

Halt's eyes flicked back to Will. Calculating. "How did that feel?"

Terrifying. Will had had no idea what he was doing. Exhausting. He wanted to sleep for a year. Unnerving. He hadn't felt like he was in control of himself. "It was...alright. Sir."

Halt nodded a few times. "Then I hope you'll have no objections with repeating that?"

Will backed up instinctively. No, no he didn't want to do that again. He never wanted to heal another being again if that was going to happen every single time. For a second, he'd felt like he was being controlled remotely- like Apollo had heard his prayer and decided to guide his son himself. If that were the case, Apollo could kindly back off. "I- it, it, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"It was...tiring," Will hastily babbled. "Really tiring. I don't-" he, very obviously, faked a yawn. "I don't think it's a good idea. I might-" he faked another yawn. "Fall asleep. That wouldn't be good, right?"

Halt leveled him with a look and proffered his arm again. "I think you can manage," he said simply.

"No, please, I can't-" Will stopped, horrified.

"Can't?" Halt asked softly. Will listened for the low threat usually present when Halt spoke in that tone, but it wasn't there. He just seemed...curious. "Why can't you? You just did."

Even if Will had been willing to trust Halt with something that personal, he didn't think he could ever put his true feelings into words. It was...terrifying, violating, and Will felt like his entire self had been put to the surface, like he'd bared his entire soul in order to heal Halt. Will had never had that kind of vulnerability with anyone- had only come close twice in his life, and both times had ended badly. One in loss, one in betrayal.

"Could I just sing a hymn instead?" Will asked weakly.

"What makes you think I know hymns of Apollo?"

Will stared at Halt. That thought had never occurred to him. "Well," he started uncertainly, "You're-" and stopped. He'd been about to say, 'you're Halt.' He'd never said Halt's name out loud. "You're a Ranger," he amended instead. "Don't you know everything about Apollo?"

Halt inclined his head. "Not all things, but many. I don't sing but I do have a few hymns written down. I'm sure a son of Apollo could figure them out quickly."

Thirty minutes later, Will had committed one of Apollo's healing hymns to memory. It was one about healing bruises, which Will figured was the one they needed most. Learning the guitar had granted Will what many called perfect pitch, so he needed no instrument to get the melody correct. He hummed first, felt the magic flow through him, then directed his gaze to Halt's arm and sang the words.

This time, the tingle in the back of Will's head remained silent. A warm glow seemed to settle in Will's stomach, but the electric power and lack of control he'd had the last time he'd tried were missing. As he sang the last word of the song the bruises slowly faded away. The scars, however, remained.

Halt examined his arm. "Not bad. You'll be healing any injuries we incur from now on. You need the practice." Will gulped. He understood it was strategic to have a healer, but even still the thought made him nervous.

Still, he nodded. "Yes, sir."

* * *

Four more months passed by, bringing them into the end of December. Already, frost coated the grass surrounding Halt's cabin in the mornings and occasionally, snow would fall over the forest. Will learned everything he could about being a Ranger and reported to Ferris every two weeks. He stubbornly refused to call Halt by his real name, even though the Ranger made several hints over the months that he'd rather be called Halt; as if in retaliation, Halt pointedly called him boy every time Will said sir.

A month before, the two of them had traveled back to Camp Half-Blood to report the group of skeletons they'd fought- or rather, that Halt had fought. Will had bravely shot at them, but his hands were shaking and the poorly aimed arrows did little against bones. Halt had entangled them with his bolas and cleanly decapitated them, leaving a white-faced Will still mounted on Tug.

Since that month, there had been several more sightings of undead. Halt seemed worried, as much as Halt could seem worried. Will internally wondered whether it was Ferris checking up on him (a ghost had slipped inside the cabin before being detected by Halt and promptly killed), but said nothing of that to the Ranger.

Now, they were riding through the forest per usual. Halt quizzed Will on animal tracks, forest signs, and other such things as they rode. Although normally Will liked tracking, he kept losing focus- earning quite the earful from Halt whenever it happened.

"Rabbit?" Halt asked incredulously after one such occurrence. "Are you blind?"

Will forced himself to refocus. "Deer," he mumbled, embarrassed, reexamining the tracks. "Three of them; two adult and a fawn. The one there," he pointed, "was the buck since it's heavier and larger."

"Well," Halt said grudgingly, "Once you actually put your head to something, you seem to know what you're doing. You'll have to work on improving your concentration."

Will nodded, accepting the criticism easily. They rode on for a bit longer before an unfamiliar sound met Will's ears. It sounded like crashing, like something huge was bounding through the forest...straight towards them. It was faint still, but rapidly coming nearer.

"What...what's that?" Will whispered, knowing the Ranger had probably picked up on it even before Will had.

Halt looked even more grim than usual. "A drakon."

"A...dragon?" Will asked, eyes instantly brightening in curiosity despite the pressing danger. "They're real? Do they breathe fire? Do they-"

"Not a dragon, a drakon. With a k. Although dragons are real too. Drakons are deadlier, though. They don't have wings and most can't breathe fire, but..." he trailed off briefly at a particularly loud crash. "Many of them can spit acid. At least, this one can."

"How do you know?" Will asked, trying to listen for something that would tip him off before realizing there was no way he could possibly figure out if it spat acid by the sounds it was making.

"Because I've fought it before. I thought it'd be gone for a century or two if I was lucky, but it appears that I'm not."

"Oh," Will said lamely. Then, "How are we supposed to fight a drag- a drakon? We...I couldn't even fight a couple skeletons. How can I possibly be of any use with this?"

"You won't be," Halt said bluntly. "You're not supposed to be. You've only been training for six months. Let me handle this." He dismounted Abelard and murmured something into his ear that made the horse gallop off, back in the direction of the cabin. "You can keep Tug, if you want. If something goes wrong, you'll be able to get away faster." The thought that Halt was planning for- for his death was not at all reassuring to Will. But he knew better than to contradict the grizzled Ranger and constrained himself to watching as Halt calmly walked towards the crashing.

Thirty seconds later, a huge, serpentine figure bounded out of the brush, aiming straight for Halt. But the Ranger easily ducked the snapping jaws, sidestepped the flashing tail, leaped back from the deadly spray of acid. The drakon roared in rage, swishing its scaly tail from side to side like a cat tracking its prey.

Will could only watch in horror as the giant, legless serpent- at least 200 feet long, he thought dazedly- attacked his mentor again and again. Halt dodged attacks and shot arrow after arrow. Four caught the drakon in one eye, then three in the other, effectively blinding it. But sight wasn't the only way the drakon could track, and the pain only served to enrage it further. As it opened its mouth to spit acid, another arrow flew into its mouth. It roared in rage and belched, trying to spray acid, but only a weak drizzle came out. After a few seconds Will realized why; Halt had shot the creature's acid making organ, stopping any and all acid production the creature could hope to have.

Although two of its attacking techniques had now been shut down in less than three minutes, the creature was far from dead. Although it couldn't secrete acid, its jaw was still fully operational, and the huge, powerful tail was a weapon to be reckoned with. It hit Halt solidly in the back, throwing him high into the air and whacking him into a tree more than a hundred yards away. The Ranger struggled to his feet, but staggered and clutched his ribs.

The drakon wasted no time, opening its jaws wide as it prepared to end its enemy. But Halt was far from being ready to lay down and die. He dropped his bow and stomped on the ground, hard. The answering rumble could be felt even by Will and a huge crack began to open in the ground; as the drakon came again, Halt held out his hands and a shield of pure darkness came in front of him. The drakon rebounded off it and hissed, one of its teeth sent flying. Halt's face was a mask of concentration as he evaded, blocked, and attacked with his powers. Every step he took seemed to open a new fissure in the ground, and a dark sphere surrounded him, protecting him from the drakon's snapping jaws.

For a time, it seemed as though Halt would indeed win. Even wounded, weaponless, and favoring one leg, Halt was a formidable opponent. The powers of Hades himself came to Halt's fingers. Several times as the drakon swung with its mighty tail, Halt ducked into the shadow of a tree and vanished, reappearing behind the monster and sending a spear of darkness straight into its scales. But unlike the drakon, Halt grew tired quickly. Keeping up that much power for longer than a few minutes- for some, a few seconds- would've knocked any other demigod unconscious. Halt remained conscious and strong, but as the minutes dragged on, Will could see he was tiring.

Will dismounted, movements mechanical and almost automatic. He nervously fingered his bow. Halt's death seemed to loom nearer at every second, but something inside Will would not let him flee. Perhaps there was some part that thought saving Halt's life now would make up for his betrayal later on.

Whatever it was that made him do it, however, Will had no idea how he thought he was going to be any help. Halt was a far, far better archer than Will, but his arrows had done practically nothing except enrage and blind the drakon. And Will didn't have the awesome, terrifying powers of the son of Hades- for Will now knew whose parent Halt must have, to control the very earth and its shadows.

Will bit his lip and slowly began to step forward. He had no idea what he was going to do. He had no confidence he was going to win. But godsdamn him if he didn't at least try.

The drakon roared and swung its tail again. This time, Halt wasn't quick enough to shadow travel and the dark sphere around him shattered under the mighty blow. Halt flew backwards this time, hitting a rock headfirst with a sickening thud. Will stared in horror.

Then the monster closed in. Its jaws opened wide.

Halt tried to push himself to standing, but sank back down again. His leg was twisted at an awkward angle and his face was ashen.

The jaws lowered, nearing Halt.

Closer.

And closer.

And finally Will couldn't take it anymore. "HALT!"

Those dark eyes flicked towards him. Halt mouthed, run, Will. Run. But Will was past the point of listening. "Hey! You big, ugly...thing!" The drakon, furious at being interrupted in its moment of triumph, spun around to glare at Will.

"Don't look into its eyes!" Halt cried faintly, but it was too late.

Will stared into the creature's eyes, paralyzed. He had never felt terror so complete as in that moment. The drakon neared Will, slithering closer and closer, jaws opening wide in a manner similar to how he'd done for Halt.

Then came the familiar shing of metal. The creature roared, momentarily distracted, and took its eyes off of Will. Will saw a glint of steel perfectly placed between two scales; Halt's throwing knife.

"Run, Will!" Halt shouted. "Leave me behind and go! Tug will know where to take you, just run!"

Will gritted his teeth, looking at the drakon whose eyes were back on Will once more. This time, he carefully avoided looking into the creature's eyes.

He would not leave Halt. That was final.

But what could he possibly do to get them both out alive?

As the creature came at him, Will remembered the flash of light in the hellhound incident. Somehow, some way or another, he had controlled light and used it to daze his opponent. Just dazing, however, wouldn't work against a blind drakon. Halt had formed his darkness into a shield, had formed it into various weapons- spears, knives, arrows. Could Will do the same?

Once again, it wasn't a question of if he could. It was a question of what would happen if he couldn't.

Will reached for the tingling sensation in the back of his head as the drakon slithered towards him slowly, scenting the air, as if taking its time. Will couldn't help but feel grateful the creature didn't seem to want to finish him off quickly- it was definitely convenient, as far as Will was concerned. It gave him time to fight back.

Distantly, Will could hear Halt yelling at him, calling him hotheaded and stubborn and telling him he was the stupidest apprentice ever to live. Will ignored him and continued reaching for the tingle.

Dad, he thought, pleading with Apollo, please, I don't know how I did what I did with the hellhound, but it's the only thing that could save Halt right now. Please, if not for me, for one of your foremost Rangers.

A calm settled over Will not even a second later. Apollo had heard and answered, and he was telling Will it would be alright. As the god of prophecy, Will couldn't help but trust his dad was correct. The tingling in his mind became a burn, then a flame as white hot as the sun. Will screamed from the intense energy radiating through him, reached out a hand, and blindly shoved.

A wave of light came from his hands, pushing the drakon back several yards. It hissed, obviously angered, and swung its tail at Will. He'd barely dodged it before sharp teeth were descending on him. Again, he concentrated on the searing energy and shoved. Will heard a pop and a strangled scream, and, daring to look up, Will saw the drakon's jaw was dislocated.

But even though the creature couldn't bite Will's head off, the body itself was still a danger. Will had heard about boa constrictors; they wrapped themselves around their prey and squeezed until it suffocated. As huge as that thing was, Will knew it wouldn't be hard at all. Somehow, he had to kill it or paralyze it permanently.

Light was comparable with the sun, right? Or was comparable with energy? If Will could somehow pump enough energy into that thing to shock it to death or overload its brain...

Will waited until the head, with gleaming, bloodshot and arrow-filled eyes, was near him before he accessed his power again. Sending another silent prayer up to Apollo, Will dragged up every ounce of energy he could muster before expelling it out of his hands and right into the creature's eyes.

The ensuing blast was powerful enough Will almost lost his footing. Raw energy and light erupted from Will, far more than he knew he was capable of ever producing (thanks, Dad), and he poured every bit of it into the drakon's blinded eyes.

The monster uttered a strangled shriek and convulsed once, twice. Then it went limp.


	8. Chapter 8

The monster uttered a strangled shriek and convulsed once, twice, then went limp. The huge eyes remained opened, though, and Will didn't dare take the chance he was wrong about it dying. He continued pouring every bit of his energy and every bit of the borrowed energy from his dad, on and on and on and _on_ until another sound drew him out of his terror.

"Will," it said, but it was faint, muddled, like Will was miles underwater and it was at the surface. "Will, you can stop now. It's dead."

Will didn't respond. He couldn't take that chance- what if it wasn't dead? What if it killed him or Halt when their backs were turned?

"Will." The noise, the voice, was more insistent. "Will, stop. You're going to exhaust yourself. Will, it's dead. It won't hurt either of us anymore. Will!"

That last finally jerked Will out of his panic. He looked down at where the drakon was-

Wait. Where was it?

"W-Where'd it go?" Will asked instantly, terror returning. "How did it get away? I kept my eyes on it, I swear I-"

"Will." Halt's voice was gentle, soft. He'd picked himself up and had begun hopping towards Will on his one good leg. "It's gone. It turned into dust, like monsters do when they're killed."

"Killed," Will repeated, staring down at the bloodied ground, at the drakon teeth that had been scattered across it, at the blood that wasn't just from the monster. He slowly looked up at his mentor, then gasped. "Halt, you're injured!"

Something almost like a smile flashed across Halt's face. Will couldn't imagine what Halt thought was great about him being injured, but-

Oh. He'd said Halt.

Will flushed. "I...uh..." he awkwardly trailed off. Halt seemed to be smirking, before a barely-there grimace flashed and he staggered, his one good leg buckling. "Halt!" Will cried and ran, barely managing to reach his mentor before he collapsed. "Tug!" As an apprentice Ranger who hadn't even passed his first assessment, Will didn't have a self-filling ambrosia tin, so he needed to get Halt to Abelard as fast as he could. "Halt, where are you hurt?"

Halt flashed him a rather droll look. "Where do you think?" he asked, motioning sarcastically to his leg. Then he convulsed and began coughing. Will was alarmed to notice a thin dribble of blood come out of the Ranger's mouth.

"We need to get you to Abelard as soon as we can. Did you send him back to the cabin?" Halt nodded nearly imperceptibly. By that time, Tug had reached them. Will put his arms around his mentor and half pushed, half supported him to standing. "Can you mount by yourself?"

"I'm injured," Halt snapped, "Not dead."

Will bit his lip and chose not to speak what he was thinking. No, perhaps he wasn't yet. But how long would that stay true? Halt looked terrible. His leg was terribly broken, his face ashen and he was still coughing up blood- when the drakon had sent him flying, it must've caused heavy internal bleeding. Halt needed ambrosia, and quickly. Despite the Ranger's protests, Will helped him mount up on Tug, giving his pony a warning glare not to throw Halt off. Tug subsided immediately when faced with his master's terror-stricken face.

Halt pushed himself in front of the saddle and Will mounted behind, taking the reins. It was an odd turn of events; the last time they'd ridden together like that, their places had been switched.

"Tug," Will said, "Run." He copied what Halt had done to Will all those months ago to the best of his ability; taking the reins in one hand and wrapping his arms around his mentor to keep him on Tug as the little horse approached full speed. Halt hissed and Will winced in sympathy, knowing he must be aggravating the agonizing wounds, but Halt would get hurt far worse if he fell off Tug now. Sensing the urgency of the matter, Tug was moving faster than Will had ever seen him run before, leaping over logs and dashing through trees at breakneck speed.

Within minutes that felt like hours to Will, the cabin came in sight. Abelard was, thank Apollo, there, ears pricked and head turned towards the desperate trio. The moment Will pulled Tug to a stop he leaped off his horse and ran to Abelard, desperately rummaging through the saddlebags. Halt had gotten worse even in the few minutes of travel; it appeared the rapid movement had only worsened the bleeding. Will didn't know much about internal bleeding- Halt had only gone over how to treat more basic injuries- but he knew it definitely wasn't good, and that internal bleeding could result in death via blood loss much like external bleeding. And, going by how pale Halt was...

Will dumped the saddlebags' contents on the ground and rummaged through the stuff. His heart lifted as he found the golden tin and he ran back to Halt, who'd just finished dismounting and was now slumped on the ground beside Tug. The fact that Halt didn't complain or try to move from his prone position spoke volumes of just how badly injured he was.

Now, a new kind of fear surrounded Will, different from the one he'd faced with the drakon but just as debilitating. What if Will wasn't good enough? What if he couldn't save Halt?

He opened the tin and pulled out all twelve ambrosia squares at once, too scared to worry about separating them and rationing them off. He fed the first four to Halt and grabbed his own nectar canteen for the Ranger to wash it down with. When Halt's color improved only marginally and blood still dribbled down Halt's chin, Will fed him the rest of the ambrosia and watched in a panic for something to happen.

Halt's eyes flickered, slowly closing. His breathing, raspy and uneven, began to slow.

Will had no idea if he was just going unconscious or if he was...but either one couldn't be good. Will grabbed the Ranger's shoulder and shook it as hard as he could. "C'mon, Halt, wake up. Please."

Halt's eyes reopened just as slowly as they'd closed. "'M tired. Leave me alone."

Grumpy to the very last, Will thought, then shoved the morbid thought away. "I need you to stay awake for me. Please. Please, I'm..." well did Will remember the last time he'd begged and how that had turned out. But this was different than Ferris's betrayal. "Halt, I'm...I'm gonna need to try and heal you, so you need to stay awake, okay?"

"Can't heal me," Halt muttered. "Too much-" he coughed- "Too far gone. Tell Gilan-"

"No, you're wrong," Will interrupted desperately. "I can heal you. I can." He'd never learned a hymn for internal bleeding, but he wouldn't let that stop him. Once before, he'd healed without singing. Even though the thought of doing it that way again turned Will's stomach, the other option was worse. So, for the third time that day, Will prayed to Apollo. _Please, Dad. I...I care about him. I know I shouldn't, especially because of what I'll do to him, but I don't want him to die. Please, Dad, please help me._

Just like before, a warm glow ran through Will. But this time, he had control over his own body. He reached for the power locked away in the back of his mind and placed his hands on Halt's chest. He knew what would happen next would be awful for him, but if it saved Halt...

A blaze of warm, soft energy ran through Will's body, through his fingers and into Halt. He felt intensely vulnerable like he had the last time and instinctively knew why. The light he had used against the drakon was meant to hurt and had been corrupted because of that. But this energy used to heal someone Will cared for...this was Will's pure, raw power, his own soul he was pouring into the grizzled Ranger.

Will had no idea how long he sat there, hands on Halt's chest, praying to Apollo and Zeus and Hades that the Ranger would be okay, that he would be alive. But finally, finally Halt's body, just a few moments ago still and lifeless, stirred. Will didn't dare stop healing but allowed his heart a wild leap. A few minutes after that, Halt opened his eyes once more.

"Halt!" Entirely forgetting about the reason he'd been healing Halt in the first place, Will wrapped his arms around his mentor and squeezed as tightly as he could, holding him as if Will were afraid he could disappear at any second. "Y-You're okay. I thought...I thought you, you were, were-"

"Shh," Halt murmured soothingly, rubbing Will's back lightly. "It's okay now. Don't think about that. It's all over now."

"But you, you almost-"

"But I didn't." Halt's voice was gentle and soothing and a constant reminder that he was alive. He hadn't died. Will had saved him.

It was ironic how the day before, Will had refused to even call Halt by his name and told himself he didn't care about Halt at all, nor did he trust him. But now everything had changed. Will had called Halt by his name. Halt had been ready to sacrifice himself for Will. Will, in turn, would've rather died than let that happen.

Somehow, despite everything he'd done, despite everything he'd told Ferris, Will had still screwed up in one fundamental way: he'd let himself care about Halt. And, if the events of the day and the way Halt was currently cradling the suddenly exhausted Will had anything to say, Halt cared about his apprentice in the same way.

"Get some sleep," Halt told him as Will futilely tried to keep his eyes open. "You killed a drakon and practically brought someone back from the dead. You deserve a nice, long rest."

Those were the last words Will heard before he was out like a light.

It had all started out so normally.

Halt had woken up at 5:30 as was usual for him, prepared breakfast, then woken Will up at 6:00. They had a quick combat session, some archery practice, and then their usual ride into the forest. And that was when it had all gone south.

Truth be told, Halt hadn't actually been responsible for killing the drakon in the first place. In the battle of New York City against the titan lord Kronos, the titan had sent the drakon against the demigods of Camp Half-Blood, knowing that it was undefeatable. Its destiny was to be defeated by a child of Ares, but the Ares cabin had refused to fight after the Apollo cabin had dishonored it. Pauline, daughter of Aphrodite and a charmspeaker, had gone back to convince them to join. Thankfully, she'd succeeded, causing Rodney, head counselor of Ares cabin, to charge into battle and kill the drakon. The only thing Halt had really even done was shoot it in the eye a few times- he'd been a lot less skilled at archery back then.

So why was it after him? Could Rodney have already died? Surely not; he should be around sixty, same as Halt. Of course, with immortality perks Halt looked only mid-40s, but still. Was it possible Rodney was dead?

Halt shoved the thought aside, dismounted, and went to face the colossal beast, back from its four decades' trip through Tartarus. He murmured a few words to Abelard that he was to protect Will if Halt ended up dying against the thing and glanced back at Will. The apprentice looked petrified, clutching the reins like a lifeline. "You can keep Tug, if you want. If something goes wrong, you'll be able to get away faster." Will nodded dumbly, eyes moving from Halt to the trees back to Halt again. It was clear he'd realized what Halt meant; the Ranger wasn't expecting victory.

Halt unslung his bow from around his shoulders and started walking towards the crashing growing louder every second. His heart was beating quickly- much more quickly than normal. He couldn't honestly think of a way to kill it; what if it could still only be killed by an Ares child? What if dying hadn't changed its fate? If that were the case, then Halt needed to find a way to disable it. He'd go for the eyes first, then the acid glands. The body itself would still be difficult, but perhaps he could summon an earthquake large enough to trap it. Then he could find Killian, one of the Rangers of Ohio and a son of Ares, to take it down.

He'd just begun contemplating whether he should tell Will to leave and find Killian when a giant, serpentine figure exploded out of the brush and came straight for Halt. He narrowly ducked and dodged the first few attacks, swiftly analyzing its movements and looking for an opening he could exploit. Right before it sprayed acid, it paused- there! Four arrows, one after another in rapid procession, hit the drakon square in the right eye. At the next opening a minute or so later, three more hit the left.

Now he needed to stop it from spraying acid. Droplets had already hit the edges of his cloak, corroding the material beyond repair; Crowley had made a deal with Athena for those cloaks, but even her weaving wasn't strong enough to withstand the drakon's poison. Halt knew it was a matter of time before he was just a moment to slow to dodge and the acid hit him squarely- for a blind creature, it was remarkably good at tracking Halt. He'd been memorizing the exact position of the monster's acid glands every time it opened its mouth; now that knowledge was put to the test as it readied itself for its next acid rain.

Halt jumped, dodging the tail as it opened its mouth. His mind and body were working so quickly time seemed slow as he nocked an arrow, aimed, and fired. Then Halt hit the ground, the arrow hit the creature's acid gland, and time resumed. It roared in rage and belched, but only a weak splatter of acid came out of its maw.

Halt was already planning through the next step; he needed to dislocate the drakon's jaw. Despite no longer having sight and with no acid to shoot at Halt, it was still a formidable opponent. Eliminating its ability to bite was the next step Halt needed to take in order to stop it. But how? Halt would need extreme force to even injure a beast that large. His powers over the earth and shadows were vast, but he didn't think he could actuall-

The creature's tail hit him solidly in the back. Taken off guard, Halt was completely unprepared and sailed through the air, hitting a tree a hundred yards away with a resounding thud. Halt coughed, wincing when his newly broken ribs began to throb and a spatter of blood landed on the grass. Damn. He'd been injured that badly with only one hit? He picked himself up, wincing as his ankle throbbed- hopefully only a sprain- and looked at the rapidly approaching 200 foot long drakon. Well, he supposed it wasn't that surprising after all.

The drakon roared, opening its mouth to end him once and for all. Thinking quickly, Halt dropped his bow and stomped on the ground as hard as he could with his good leg. He needed to unbalance it before he planned out what to do next. A huge fissure rapidly spread from his foot, the crack widening as it raced directly towards the monster. But it would take time to become large enough to trap the huge thing and it seemed to realize that, slithering over the widening crack easily and continuing for Halt once more.

As it lunged towards him again, Halt spread his hands and conjured a shield of pure darkness. The drakon rebounded off the shield and hissed, one of its teeth sent flying. An idea came to Halt- if he could deprive it of enough of its teeth, perhaps Halt could let himself get swallowed and end it from within. The drakon was covered in scales hard as titanium on the outside, but on the inside...as long as he didn't let himself fall into the stomach where extremely powerful acid was sure to be, Halt could probably decapitate it from inside.

With that plan in mind, Halt fought on. Every step he took generated another earthquake, each one smaller but still widening the crack that was now almost large enough to fit the drakon. He slipped in and out of the shadows, taking a solid sphere of darkness with him to protect him from every attack. Whenever he sensed an opening, he formed his power into a weapon- a dagger, a spear, an arrow- and launched it at the creature, hoping against hope he might be able to penetrate the hardened scales.

But Halt was quickly tiring, and the drakon injured but strong. The fissures he was creating in the earth were becoming weaker and weaker, and the drakon had moved the fight away from the cracks in order to save itself. Every time Halt shadow traveled away from the creature's tail, his stomach churned more, and even keeping up the most fragile of shields was almost more than he could take.

Then the mighty tail came for him again, and this time he wasn't quick enough. It hit him in his already broken ribs, shattering his shield and sending him flying headfirst into a rock. He hit with a sickening crack and lay there, unable to pick himself up.

 _Probably concussion,_ he started, listing every injury he knew he'd incurred, _broken ribs, extensive internal bleeding, sprained left ankle-_ his gaze drifted down to that leg and his heart sank. _Severely broken left leg,_ he added. There was no way he'd be able to continue fighting. He needed to get Will to safety.

His gaze drifted past the approaching drakon, barely realizing it was closing in on him rapidly with a triumphant roar. Will- where was Will? He didn't see him with Tug and panicked for a moment, but then his gaze slid to the left and he saw Will had dismounted and was staring at the scene before him with a white face and stricken expression.

The drakon roared again, swishing its tail. Its jaw began its descent towards Halt, who grimly fingered his saxe knife. Perhaps he'd be able to take it down after all, once he was inside the creature's mouth.

 _"HALT!"_

Halt's eyes flicked to Will. _Run, Will,_ he mouthed, staring straight into the wide, frightened eyes of his apprentice. _Run._ But Will's mouth set in determination and he shook his head ever so slightly. _I'm not running,_ his eyes said back. His gaze slid instead to the drakon and he yelled, "Hey! You big, ugly...thing!" The drakon instantly spun around, turning blinded but still dangerous and hate-filled eyes onto Will.

"Don't look into its eyes!" Halt yelled. Even blinded, the creature could paralyze things with its stare if it made eye contact. Halt had narrowly avoided having such a thing happen to him several times.

But it was too late. Will froze, staring up at the colossal serpent in petrified terror.

 _Damn fool,_ Halt thought angrily. _I told him to run and now he's going to get himself killed!_ In one smooth movement he flicked his throwing knife from his belt and sent it into a tiny chink between two of the drakon's scales. It swung its massive head back around to Halt, freeing Will from his paralysis. Halt locked eyes with his apprentice and shouted, "Run, Will! Leave me behind and go! Tug will know where to take you, just run!"

But once again, Halt's idiot apprentice refused to obey his master. Now weaponless except for his saxe knife, barely able to breathe from what he suspected was a pierced lung, and only able to stand on one leg, Halt was constrained only to shouting to Will how stupid he was, yelling at Will to run, and watching the drakon advance on Will. It seemed to want to savor the moment; to kill Will slowly. In hindsight, that was probably the only thing that saved them. As the drakon neared Will, the boy closed his eyes, his lips moving in what Halt made out to be a silent prayer to Apollo. A hazy golden light descended onto Will and his eyes opened.

Then he reached out his hands and shoved. A wave of light sprang from his fingertips, pushing the drakon back and dangerously close to one of Halt's fissures. But Will didn't seem to even remember about them; he simply dodged the drakon's next attack. Then it lunged, opening its huge maw over Will. The boy shoved again with his powers and Halt heard a loud pop. The beast's jaw twisted at an awkward angle and the ensuing roar of pain came out as a strangled croak.

Will had successfully eliminated the creature's mouth now; it remained permanently open, so he could've easily just jumped in and sliced it open from the inside. But apparently that didn't occur to the apprentice either; instead, as the creature neared him once more, eyes lowered towards him in rage, Will lashed out with his powers once more. The blast of sheer power coming from Will almost upended the boy himself, and even through a haze of pain Halt could feel it from yards away. The drakon gave another feeble croak and convulsed once, twice.

Then it was dead.


	9. Chapter 9

But Will continued blasting every ounce of his energy into the thing, and after a few seconds Halt realized he wasn't going to stop. "Will. Will, you can stop now. It's dead." The beast slowly began to disintegrate, turning into dust that blew away into the air and descended into Tartarus. "Will. Will, stop. You're going to exhaust yourself." At that point, all that was left were the war trophies; a bunch of teeth, a pile of scales. But Will still continued blasting the ground where the creature had lain. Halt bit his lip against a groan as he pushed himself to standing and slowly began to hop towards Will. "Will, it's dead. It won't hurt either of us anymore. Will!"

Finally Will snapped out of his trance. The golden aura surrounding him had vanished, leaving Halt to wonder if it had even existed or if he'd been hallucinating- he was near enough death for that to happen, he knew. Will's eyes scanned the empty ground and then turned to Halt, panicked. "W-Where'd it go? How did it get away? I kept my eyes on it, I swear I-"

"Will," Halt said gently. "It's gone. It turned into dust, like monsters do when they're killed."

"Killed," Will repeated dazedly, staring around at the ruined ground. Then he turned back to his master and his eyes widened. "Halt, you're injured!"

Although the Ranger was seriously tempted to make an acerbic comment on how Will was merely stating the obvious, he couldn't muster up the strength for anything close to his usual sharp tone. Instead, he decided to focus on the fact that Will had called him Halt. The first time he could've ignored; Halt was about to die, after all. Although he was still in the same condition, Will didn't know that yet. He let a trace of a smile flicker across his face and raised an eyebrow at his apprentice, who flushed.

"I...uh..." but then Halt convulsed, coughing up bright red blood and Will screamed, "Halt!" and ran to catch him. Halt felt himself beginning to fade to unconsciousness and was scarcely aware of what happened until he heard Will ask, "Halt, where are you hurt?"

Mustering up every remaining ounce of his sarcasm, Halt flashed Will a droll look and motioned to his leg. "Where do you think?" He convulsed again and winced as he felt a shard of bone puncture something inside him- probably his other lung, or maybe even his heart.

"We need to get you to Abelard as soon as we can. Did you send him back to the cabin?" Halt gave the barest of nods. "Can you mount by yourself?"

 _No,_ Halt thought, but glared at Will just the same. "I'm injured, not dead!" _Yet, anyway._

Will must've been thinking along the same lines because he helped the protesting Halt up, then into the saddle. Halt managed to scoot in front of the tack and waited until Will had mounted up and secured his arms around Halt before falling unconscious.

When he next woke up, they were in front of the cabin. Will slid down from the saddle and sprinted towards something, but Halt's vision was tunneling and he wasn't able to follow Will's movement more than a few steps. He slowly, painfully dragged himself out of the saddle and dismounted, crumpling into a heap next to Tug. The little horse nuzzled him gently but Halt didn't even notice. Every ragged breath he took was a breath closer to his death, he knew. And it wouldn't be long in coming. He vaguely hoped Will wouldn't blame himself for that too much; Will had killed the godsdamned thing, after all.

Then Will was there again, force-feeding him ambrosia. Halt felt the godly food sink into his stomach and repair some of the damage, but he already knew there had been too much. There was nothing more they could do. Halt was going to die.

Will forced more ambrosia down his throat. Halt's eyes flickered; his wounds gave a sudden throb for no reason he could ascertain until Will said, "C'mon, Halt, wake up. Please," and Halt decided Will must have...

Must have...

His eyes flickered open, hazy. "'M tired. Leave me alone."

Will said more, desperate words and pleas, but Halt was too far gone to hear them until he heard something about Will healing...healing Halt...himself? Was that it? "Can't heal me," he muttered. "Too much-" he coughed- "Too far gone. Tell Gilan-"

"No, you're wrong," Will interrupted desperately, but what he said next was lost to Halt as well. Halt wondered what it'd be like to die; as son of Hades, was he automatically granted passage to the Elysium Fields? Was he...

His thoughts faded, and with it, his consciousness.

He woke some indeterminable amount of time later, still exhausted but with his torso seemingly healed. The moment his eyes opened he was assaulted by a pair of arms, the scent of dirt and blood, and Will's voice saying, "Halt!" Halt wrapped his own arms around his apprentice and squeezed in return. "Y-You're okay," Will murmured as if he couldn't quite believe it. "I thought...I thought you, you were, were-"

"Shh. It's okay now. Don't think about that. It's all over now."

"But you, you almost-"

"But I didn't." Halt drew back and took in the sight of his apprentice once more. Will looked exhausted, which wasn't surprising considering he'd killed a drakon with powers Halt hadn't even known he possessed and then proceeded to bring Halt back from the brink of death, presumably all on his own. Now that the apprentice had ascertained Halt was alive and well, he looked about to pass out right then and there. Fighting a smile, Halt told him to get some sleep and watched as the boy closed his eyes and went out like a light.

Halt surveyed the now limp body of his apprentice laying in his arms. He seemed fine, but that didn't stop Halt's anger as he recalled Will's idiotic actions of barely two hours before. Halt had _commanded_ him to run, more than once. Not only had Will refused to do that, he'd actually tried to _fight_ the drakon. He'd succeeded, of course, but that hardly mattered. What mattered was that he'd done something so ineffably stupid as to take on a full-grown drakon with six months of training under his belt.

Will was half-grown and, as far as Halt was concerned, completely untrained. The kind of risk Will had taken...

Halt set his jaw and looked down at Will. Despite himself, he softened as he beheld Will's peaceful, unguarded expression. No, he wouldn't be cruel enough to wake Will up from much-needed sleep. But that wouldn't stop Halt from giving him an earful once he woke up on his own. Will needed to be told never to take such foolish risks again.

He lifted Will up in his arms and pushed to standing, looking down in surprise at his completely healed left leg. What could Will have done to heal not only his ribs, but his leg as well?

Well, whatever it was, Halt wouldn't find out until his apprentice woke up. So he carried Will into the cabin and set him on his bed. Then he went back to the yard, mounted Abelard, and rode back to the place where the drakon had been slain. After all, Will _had_ slain the drakon. He deserved to have his war trophies.

Consciousness came to Will as slowly as honey dripping from a honeycomb. His eyes felt filled with sand or like they'd been rubbed in sandpaper and his limbs like they hadn't been used in decades. With great effort he managed to wrest one eye, then the other, open and looked around, rubbing sleep away.

He was in his room. It looked the same as it always had; dark green walls, rough wooden floor, a single window where dim, multicolored light streamed through- the beginnings of either dawn or dusk. His recurve bow and quiver lay on a rough-hewn chair, and his double-scabbard belt sat on his nightstand. His room in its entirety looked exactly as it normally did. There was only one problem.

"Rang- Halt?" Will asked, wincing when his voice came out in a hoarse croak. "Halt?"

He heard nothing for a beat, then the faintest sound of footsteps. Halt's figure appeared in the open doorway and relief softened the worried lines on his face. "You're awake."

Will's brow furrowed. He remembered nothing beyond healing Halt. "Have I been sleeping for a while?"

His mentor nodded. "A little over two days. The amount of power you used exhausted you completely."

"Two days!?" Will exclaimed, then winced as his entire body spasmed.

"Here," Halt said, handing him a familiar golden tin. "You're still experiencing the aftereffects of what you did. The amount of power you used was far more than what your body was able to take. You'll need a few more days to recover completely."

Will nodded and took the tin, taking two squares of ambrosia and eyeing them with distaste. He hadn't had any ambrosia for around four and a half months- about a month and a half into his apprenticeship- but it still tasted like sawdust and he wasn't expecting it to taste any differently now. He handed the tin back to Halt and then asked, "Are you okay? Did your ribs heal alright? How about your leg? Did you have to go to someone else? Did-"

"Slow down," Halt instructed, but his eyes looked strangely bright. "I'm fine. I don't know what you did, but you healed me completely, even my leg."

"Oh." Will's eyes widened. "I didn't know I could do that."

Halt inclined his head. "That makes two of us. Will..." he hesitated long enough for the apprentice to know Halt had thought about this conversation for a while. "The power you possess...it's very dangerous. You need to learn how to control it immediately. What you did to the drakon is unheard of- not because of the strength of your power, but because of the nature of your power itself. No demigod has ever been known to control light."

Will nodded. That had been partly why he'd been reluctant to tell Halt of his suspicions regarding his powers. "I didn't know what I was doing," he confessed, a little embarrassed. "I just...didn't want you to die." When he looked back up at Halt, he was surprised to find the Ranger's anger-blazing eyes fixed on him.

"Yes, the fact that you didn't know what you were doing was pretty obvious," Halt snapped. With a sinking heart, Will realized he'd made a tactical error. "Will, you blatantly disobeyed me multiple times. I told you to leave me behind, but you got it into your fool head to _attack_ the godsdamned drakon!" Will had never seen Halt this angry before. Annoyed, yes. Mildly angry at Will's refusal to answer personal questions, yes. But this angry? Never.

"Halt I'm sorry, I just couldn't let you-"

"It doesn't matter what you thought you could or couldn't do. You knowingly endangered yourself against a 200 foot monster with less than a fool's hope of survival! You didn't have an idiot's chance of surviving, much less killing that thing, but you tried to do it anyway!"

"But sir- Halt," Will tried, "I _did_ kill it though. Didn't I?"

His words, meant to pacify the Ranger, only served to turn Halt's anger from vocal to suppressed rage. "That hardly matters. What matters is you did something foolish and reckless and almost got yourself killed- would have gotten yourself killed if it weren't for Apollo bestowing gifts on you no child of his has ever gotten before. You are an apprentice, and not even a fully-fledged one at that. You've had six months of training and you're not even full-grown. It doesn't matter what you wanted to do or what you ended up doing; fate is not usually so kind to demigods with death-wishes who make reckless choices. You were very, very lucky."

"Halt, I'm..."

Halt sighed, anger draining from his expression at last when he saw Will's stricken expression. "Enough of that. You've had punishment enough already, I suppose. Sleeping for two days straight won't be pleasant on your body. Eat your ambrosia now. I'll bring you some food and then you need to get some more rest. We'll resume training tomorrow."

Will nodded meekly and gingerly popped the first ambrosia square in his mouth. He started chewing, waiting for the sawdust taste-

He spat it out. "Halt, what did you do to it?"

Halt gave him a slightly quizzical look. "I wasn't aware I did anything except give it to you."

"It- it tastes-" Will chewed on the remaining bit he hadn't spat out and frowned. "It tastes like...your stew? You know, the one you make on special occasions with wine and, and-" he stopped. Halt's expression had changed. "What is it, Halt?"

"What did it taste like before?" Halt's tone was just the slightest bit too casual. His grim expression seemed lighter, almost like he was trying not to smile. "Something from Camp Half-Blood, perhaps?"

Will's brow furrowed. "No," he said slowly, confused. "It didn't taste like anything, before. It tasted like sawdust. I thought that was normal."

Halt turned away. "I can't say I've ever met someone who had ambrosia taste like sawdust."

"Oh." Will stared at the remaining square of godly food. "So why did it change? Why does it taste exactly like your stew? Does it taste like that for everyone?"

Halt hesitated. "I'm not sure why it changed," he said. Will turned a suspicious look to his mentor, but Halt's back was turned so Will couldn't see his expression. "And no. It tastes different for every person. Gilan's always claimed it tastes like his dad's s'mores to him. Crowley told me it tastes like the stew Pritchard used to make."

"Pritchard?"

"Mine and Crowley's mentor. Now stop asking questions and get some rest." He turned to leave, but Will stopped him with a soft,

"Halt." The Ranger turned around inquiringly. "I'm...I'm really glad you're okay."

Halt's expression softened. "I'm glad you're okay too, Will."

"Will, we need to talk about what happened with the drakon."

It was the day after the incident. Will still felt tired from expending all that energy, but he'd dutifully dragged himself out of bed that morning and gone through training as usual. Halt, to his credit, had actually gone a little easier on him than normal, which made Will endlessly grateful as his body began to lag further and further. Now they were in the clearing, having just finished a lesson on dual knife melee combat. The two males had just sheathed their knives and Will was looking at Halt expectantly. "What about it?"

"Did you know you could do that?"

Will glanced down at the ground and shuffled nervously. "No. Well," he struggled to find an answer, "sort of? When I was living on- a, a couple months ago," he amended quickly, "I got attacked by a hellhound. Someone came to save me, but before that I managed to stun it with a flash of light."

"A hellhound?" Halt asked, sounding surprised.

"Yeah. Another demigod saved me, but I wondered for a while what that had been. Then you told me controlling light was unheard of and, well, I thought I'd been mistaken. That I'd dreamed it up."

"Obviously not," Halt said dryly.

Will nodded sheepishly. "Then, in the battle, I uh...prayed for Apollo's help and somehow it just came to me. It felt like I was using energy that wasn't mine. Like, some of it was but some of wasn't and then it was energy but it was actually light but it still worked like energy and-"

"Will. You'll need to slow down if you want this to make sense at all."

"Oh. Right." Will flushed a little.

"So you prayed for Apollo's help and he granted you some of his power?"

Will nodded. "I think so. I think that I've always had the ability to control light, but Apollo made it more powerful. It felt like I was surrounded by his energy, or something."

"I remember seeing a golden glow around you," Halt agreed. "I thought I was hallucinating, but that must've been Apollo's blessing."

"His blessing?" Will asked, instantly curious. "What d'you mean? You say that like it's a thing, like, do all the gods have blessings? Do they all do certain things or something?"

Halt nodded. "Aphrodite's blessing makes her child impossibly beautiful for an amount of time- could be days or weeks, depending on what she feels like. Ares's is granted when his child has total desire for bloodshed and makes them invincible for a period of time. Artemis grants her blessing to her Hunters. It improves their reflexes, grants them immortality, and gives them marksmanship that takes us years of training to achieve. Of course, most full-trained Rangers are better archers than her Hunters as they don't bother training, but don't tell them that. It could get nasty."

"So..." Will said slowly. "What does Apollo's blessing do?"

Halt lifted a shoulder. "No idea. Blessings from the other gods are much more sparing. Athena sometimes blesses a particularly skilled child of hers, granting them ideas no human would ever think up. The great pyramids of Ancient Egypt, for example, were made when Athena granted an idea to one of her children. Most of the other gods's forms of blessings are simply the powers they give to their children. Ever wonder why your cabinmates often have different powers? Each god can choose what powers their children get, especially if the god governs many things."

"So," Will repeated, "Apollo's blessing?"

"I was getting there. Apollo's the god of truth, among other things. He probably sensed a true and deep want or need, decided he liked it, and granted some of his own power to you for a short period of time. Maybe made you invincible, too. Can't imagine how else you would've survived." He glared briefly at Will and the boy shrank back, not wanting to aggravate his mentor again if at all possible.

Will pondered Halt's words. He remembered the absolute determination he'd felt- that he would _not_ abandon Halt, that somehow he'd find a way out of there alive with his mentor. He bit his lip, guilt surging through him once more at the thought of the upcoming meeting with Ferris that day.

"Can you access your powers right now?"

Will looked warily at Halt. "I don't know."

"Try."

"What if I hurt you?"

Halt flicked a wrist as though that didn't concern him in the slightest. "I'm sure I'll be fine," he said. Will abruptly remembered Halt was the son of Hades and could control the exact opposite of Will's power: shadows. Yes, Halt probably would be just fine.

So Will reached deep into his mind and pulled gently at the tingling sensation. A weak flicker came out of one hand before Will accidentally tugged too hard at the sensation and it flared into a mild supernova. He staggered back and blinked rapidly, expecting his vision to be ruined, but it came out perfectly fine. He chanced a glance at Halt. The Ranger just raised an eyebrow as if to say, _go on._

Will pulled again, stronger this time. A flickering ball of light as big as a lightbulb came to life in his cupped palms. It wasn't at all steady, nigh-extinguishing one moment and flaring dangerously the next, but at least he could control it. Unsteadily, he separated his hands and drew the light out between them until it looked like a solid strip of bright white. When he tried to stretch it more, it flickered out completely.

Will swayed dangerously, feeling like the extinguishing of the light had almost extinguished him, too. A strong arm caught him before he could fall and set him back on his feet, murmuring, "Steady there."

Once he'd recovered from his vertigo, Will realized Halt was still holding him. Worse, it didn't make him that uncomfortable anymore- it just felt awkward. Will pulled away as though he'd been burned, barely stopping himself from making an apology when he found Halt staring at him.

"We'll practice this every day," Halt decided. "I want you to practice archery now. A hundred arrows by noon."

"So, Will," Ferris drawled through the darkened mirror, "what's happened in the past two weeks?"

Will bit his lip. How much could he tell? Recently, he'd started holding back as much as he possibly could, saying things like Halt hadn't taught him anything new or had decided they'd take a break from discussing politics. Will wasn't a good liar and, as an honest person at heart, was naturally terrible at it, but over the past six months, he'd gotten good at it. It turned his stomach, but he could tell a good lie.

"Not much," he said casually. He'd lied before; he'd told Ferris Ranger horses had no code words, nor were they specially trained. He'd told Ferris that there were, in fact, mortals among the Ranger Corps. He'd even told Ferris that the Rangers kept a strict watch on Camp Half-Blood to monitor any strange behavior- it'd serve to make Ferris paranoid, and he had no way of proving Will's lie wrong unless he captured and interrogated a senior Ranger (which would be difficult since even Will didn't know any senior Rangers other than Halt and Crowley, the Commandant). "Just the usual. Halt showed me a new type of arrows that are made to pierce through tough-skinned opponents and metal armor. Oh, and we killed a drakon."

Ferris's eyes gleamed. "Oh, Halt is it now?"

Will froze. He'd always called Halt 'Ranger' or 'sir.' He'd only taken to calling Halt by his name since yesterday, but already it felt as natural as breathing. "He, well, he got annoyed about my not calling him Halt. You know he's said stuff about it before. I thought I might as well practice using it to get used to it."

Ferris nodded, obviously believing him. "A drakon, you say? What'd it look like?"

Will shuddered. "200 feet, legless, eyes that can paralyze you and can spit acid. If it weren't for Halt, I would've died."

Now Ferris's eyes glimmered dangerously. "Careful now, Will. You don't want to start growing attached to him just because he saved your life. You know what I plan to do to him, do you not?"

Will barely withheld another shudder. Oh, did he remember. He remembered in stunning detail the exact specifications of the plan, down to every drop of acid, every broken bone, every scream of Halt's. Six months before, he would've assumed Halt really must've done something awful to deserve that. But Will had personally witnessed Ferris's insanity and, after Halt had been ready to sacrifice himself for Will and didn't even mention it the next day...he couldn't help but wonder if Halt had really done something awful, or if Ferris had been the one to wrong Halt instead.

"Yes, Ferris," he muttered, defeated. Whatever the truth really was, it didn't matter. Either Halt and perhaps other Rangers died, or Alyss, George, and Jenny died. The less Will cared for Halt when one or the other eventuality came to pass and his betrayal become known, the better.

"Do you have any more places? What about names?"

Over the last six months, Will had dutifully told Ferris every single name and Ranger-related place he knew. Now all that knowledge was exhausted. "No."

"Training techniques?"

"None that I haven't already told you."

Ferris stared at Will, a cruel smirk pulling up his lips. "Careful, Will," he murmured. "If I sense you're outgrowing your usefulness to me..." he made a slow line across his throat. "We both know there are three very sweet, innocent people who won't deserve that at all, don't we?"

"He taught me a new move in hand-to-hand," Will muttered. He gave an unwilling description of it and it seemed to satisfy the older boy. Ferris wanted to know every single move the Rangers had, combat-related, strategic, political. He was nothing if not thorough.

"Well, it looks like my time here is up," Ferris declared after that. "Make sure you have more for me next time. After all, Jenny would look so darling with blood on that pale skin, would she not? I find myself so tempted every time I look at her..."

"I'll have more," Will said quickly, heart pounding. "Just don't hurt them."

Ferris waggled a finger. "What do you say, Will?"

He swallowed. "Please."

"Good boy." The mirror went dark and Will breathed an unconscious sigh of relief, pulling the floorboard up and quickly slipping it inside. He had scarcely hidden it before he heard Halt's voice calling from the kitchen.

"Will, it's dinner time."

Will jumped guiltily and quickly stood up. "Coming," he called back. The guilt inside him weighed him down more with every step.

* * *

 **A/N:** I thought I'd ask your opinion on something. There are two ways this fic can end: either I can tie up the Ferris-wants-to-kill-all-the-Rangers plotline with a neat little bow AND have closure for the whole Will betrayed the Rangers thing, which would probably make this fic a few chapters longer... or I could tie up that plotline with a neat little bow and leave the aftermath of Will's betrayal, well meaning or not, for a sequel which would have another plotline- perhaps something similar to Icebound Land and/or Battle for Skandia.

I'm personally leaning more towards writing a sequel, but as I for one have HATED almost every single sequel I've read for a fic, I don't want to make a mistake like that.  
Thoughts?

Things I'll be able to offer with a sequel:

developing Will's powers more exploring either a Cassandra/Will relationship or an Alyss/Will reconciliation and a deep, true father/son relationship with Halt and Will more angst, since it'll probably have some plot points similar to Icebound Land/Battle of Skandia hopefully not just a cliche, overdone plotline that exactly follows Icebound Land but takes stuff from both worlds along with new things. 


	10. Chapter 10

"Are we nearly there?" Will asked for perhaps the tenth time that morning.

Halt grunted in annoyance but made no reply. They were on their way to the annual Gathering of the Rangers: the time where Will would be assessed to see if he was ready to move onto the next stage of training. Will was bouncing with nerves, excitement, and guilt, but determined not to show the last one. He needed to think up a lie convincing enough for him to get away with not telling Ferris the exact location of the Gathering; as of yet, he hadn't thought of a reason.

Over the past hour or so, Will had caught Halt occasionally scanning the ground and surrounding trees and wondered why. As Halt did it again, Will asked, "Are you looking for something?"

"Finally, a useful question," Halt said. "Yes, as a matter of fact. Crowley always likes to set sentries out in areas surrounding the meeting grounds in an attempt to catch me off guard."

"You?" Will questioned. "Just you?"

"Well, a few others," Halt admitted, "But yes, mostly just me. It'll be worse this year now that I've an apprentice with me. They'll want to see how good you are. I wouldn't be surprised if Gilan's following us right now." He held a hand up for silence, then smiled slightly. "Look at that," he said in false wonder, "seems like he is after all."

"How do you know?"

"Listen." Will obeyed. At first he could pick out nothing but their horses's hooves and the surrounding sounds of the forest, but then a faint echo caught his attention. He marveled Halt had heard that without even specifically trying.

"How do you know that's Gilan?"

"Only Ranger horses are trained to match gaits like that," Halt explained briefly, "and only Gilan would have the guts and the want to come after us so directly. Anyone else would attempt to cut us off on foot, hiding in the trees. Gilan wants to catch me off guard. Apparently it's a former apprentice thing." He glared at Will. Will opened his mouth to protest that he, at least, would never do such a thing. Then he realized with a pang that that was true and subsided awkwardly.

"That's the spot there," Halt murmured, pointing with one finger at a low-hanging tree. Will remembered Halt's plans for every possibility of what might happen. This one was simple: Will would swing into the tree, wait for Gilan to approach, then shoot at a tree behind him.

"Ready?"

Will nodded, brow furrowing in concentration. He kicked his feet out of the stirrups and crouched on Tug's back, reaching for the branch. The little horse's gait didn't falter even as Will swung onto the tree and disappeared into the foliage. He quickly climbed to a good vantage point and watched as Halt and the two horses continued on until the next bend, where Halt dismounted Abelard and urged Tug on, then stooped over, appearing to be studying tracks. Will could hear the hoof-beats clearer for a moment, then they ceased.

There! A flash of movement. Will stared at it, bewildered, before remembering Halt telling him how to search for a Ranger. "Don't focus your attention on one spot," he'd said. "Keep a wide focus all the time and keep scanning. You'll see him as a movement, not as a figure. Remember, he's a Ranger too and he's been trained in the art of not being seen." Will kept his eyes sweeping from side to side and was soon rewarded with another sign of movement; a swinging branch. A few seconds later, he saw a bush sway slightly from nonexistent wind, then grass spring slowly back into place from when a foot had crushed it.

Will looked back at Halt. The Ranger was still studying the tracks, making a good show of seeming preoccupied. Another movement came from the forest; Gilan, if it really was Gilan, seemed intent on surprising Halt from behind. Thirty seconds later, the tall, cloaked figure seemed to materialize in the middle of the trail, barely forty feet behind the kneeling figure of Will's mentor. "Halt, Halt!"

Halt stood up and turned wearily to Gilan. "Well, Gilan, I see you're still making that same old joke."

Gilan shrugged, grinning cheerfully. "The joke appears to be on you this year, Halt."

"And what joke would that be?"

Will quietly pulled an arrow from his quiver and nocked it to the string.

"Come now, Halt. Admit it. For once I've got the best of you- and you know how many years I've spent trying."

Halt rubbed his chin thoughtfully and nodded- more in acknowledgement of Gilan's many unsuccessful attempts than in admittance of defeat. "It beats me why you even keep trying." He paused. Will had an arrow aimed at a tree a few feet to the left of Gilan; now he just needed to wait for Halt to give the green light. "Gilan, did you ever consider that you might have forgotten something when you set up this plan to ambush me on the way to the Gathering?"

Gilan stiffened, looking confused. Then Halt continued, "or some _one?"_

"Will," Gilan breathed in sudden realization, eyes darting rapidly around. Will released the arrow and it hit with a thud into a nearby oak tree. Gilan's eyes instantly traced the path of the arrow and found Will standing on the tree branch, bow still raised. He grinned ruefully.

"Sorry, Will. I completely forgot about you. Guess that'll teach me not to get overexcited, won't it?"

Will grinned and slid down from the tree, jogging up to the two Rangers. "Glad to know I'm so forgettable," he said good-naturedly. Gilan stepped forward and reached out, arms opening for a hug. Will hesitated for a moment before accepting. He still didn't like touch all that much, but he'd gotten to the point where he could tolerate it around people he knew. Gilan was one of them, so he let the young Ranger hug him, pulling back a few seconds later. Surprising Will, Halt reached out for Gilan before the younger man could reach for Halt, crushing him in a tight embrace.

"By the gods, you grow lankier every year," Halt commented as he pulled back.

"You're the opposite," Gilan retorted, grinning and poking at Halt's stomach. "Is that the beginnings of a potbelly I see? I reckon he's making you do all the housework?" He turned to Will, who nodded ruefully.

"He made you do that, too?"

Gilan nodded. "I never knew a house could possibly generate so many chores until I apprenticed with Halt. I hate rug-beating to this day." He stuck out his tongue good-humoredly at Halt, who rolled his eyes.

"Gilan," Will started, and paused for a second as Gilan let out a whistle.

"Yes?"

"I was tracking you up in the tree and, well, I couldn't follow you. I could see where you had been and I saw where you ended up, but other than that, nothing. Are...are all the Rangers _that_ good?"

Gilan grinned, looking pleased. Blaze had trotted up and Gilan mounted easily. Will and Halt followed suit, and it wasn't until they'd begun moving again that anyone spoke. Surprisingly, it was Halt.

"Unseen movement has always been Gilan's best skill. I'd say he's one of the best unseen movers in the Corps- perhaps even in the top three. And he keeps getting better." He nodded at Gilan, who beamed in a way much like Will whenever Halt complimented him. "You'd do well to get Gilan to tutor you in that, Will."

"Could you?" Will burst out excitedly. "I want to learn how to move like that, Gil. That was amazing!"

Gilan's grin now matched Will's. "Of course, Will. If we get a chance in between all your assessments, I'd be glad to give you some pointers. Halt, which category is going first this year? If I could help him out with it before they assess unseen movement, that'd definitely give him an edge."

Halt shrugged irritably. "Why does everyone always assume I know what the assessments are like? I've never had anything to do with them, probably because they thought I'd try and go easy because I had apprentices. And it doesn't matter, anyway. Will will pass them with or without any extra training. He's ready now."

Will's grin, if possible, got even larger. As if sensing that, Halt turned to Will with a glare. "Don't get a big head, now. I'm only saying you're passable for a first year. Any decent second year could best you in everything, hands down." It wasn't quite true- Will's archery was actually comparable to a (shoddy) second year's already, as was his hand-to-hand combat, but everything else (except his mapwork and gods, was Halt glad they didn't test that or Will would fail for sure) was definitely good enough to pass his first-year exam with flying colors. Will was a quick, intuitive learner and just as eager as Gilan to learn Ranger craft, despite sometimes acting weirdly when Halt showed him something new.

Will, however, was not deterred by Halt's harsh words. He beamed at Gilan and said, "Did you hear that? He called me _passable!"_

"Yeah, I did," Gilan told him, smirking back. "Old Haltie's growing soft in his old- _ow!"_ he covered his suddenly throbbing rib protectively and glared at Halt, who was innocently riding Abelard without a glance in his direction. Will started laughing, and soon Gilan joined in. After a few seconds, Halt's mouth tilted up at the corners. Even if they were blasted nuisances at times, he didn't know what he'd do without his two apprentices. He could only hope he never had to find out.

* * *

"The first test will be on archery. You must hit the middle two rings of each target, allowing no more than five seconds to elapse between each shot."

Will took a deep breath. He was the only first year apprentice, which meant everything he did was alone. There weren't any second years, but there were two third years, a fourth year, and a fifth year. He'd heard that once the assessments were over, it was tradition to have all of the apprentices compete against each other. For first and second years, it wasn't fun business. Halt had told Will he had no chance of winning in anything and not to feel bad when he lost- not exactly comforting, but Will knew it was the honest truth. He just wasn't looking forward to being humiliated.

That is, assuming he passed the assessments. Which he should really get back to.

Even though Halt wasn't an assessor, he was still there, and Will could feel his glare burning through Will's skull. He could imagine exactly what Halt was thinking: _what kind of concentration is that? It'd be really nice if you could, perhaps, come back to planet Earth instead of whatever planet you're currently inhabiting._

"Ready...begin!"

Will reached for an arrow, nocked, aimed, and fired. It hit the first target squarely, a quarter-inch off the bullseye.

"Next!"

Counting to five in his head, Will nocked the next arrow, aimed, and fired. It was an easy rhythm he'd become accustomed to over the past months. He'd been training for exactly this for weeks now, and it came almost as easily as breathing.

 _Draw, aim, fire. Draw, aim, fire._ Arrow after arrow sank into the targets. Each made it inside the middle rings; some were close, but all made it inside. Several times Will even managed to hit the bullseye. Will shot the last arrow and watched with a distinctly satisfied air as it sank into the safe zone, then stepped back and lifted his eyes to his two assessors.

"You adhered to all rules and even went beyond what was required," came the response. "You have passed this test with full marks."

The next tests went much the same. Will excelled in hand-to-hand and knife-throwing. His unseen movement was a little dubious (he faintly heard one of the assessing Rangers mutter how he could still see Will), as was his melee knife combat, but he still managed to scrape through with fairly good grades. The knowledge tests came next: what signals could a Ranger use to tell his horse such-and-such? If a Ranger wanted to do such-and-such, where would he go? Several of the answers Will had to guess at, kicking himself for not paying more attention to Halt, but in the end he passed that one, too.

By the end of the third day, Will had finished every test. He lay in Halt and his shared tent, completely exhausted. Before he could get to sleep, though, a shadow crossed his tent and a familiar voice called, "Hey, Will. You awake?"

"Yeah," Will answered tiredly. "What is it, Gil?"

"Did you get anything for dinner? I didn't see you eat anything and I wondered if you'd like to eat with me and the senior Rangers. We're having dinner now."

Will scrambled up, his stomach giving a loud grumble. "Yeah, sure. Wait, you're a senior Ranger?"

Gilan laughed. "Hardly. I'm one of the most junior members in the Corps, actually, but because I'm such a good unseen mover and Halt's apprentice, I get special privileges."

"Won't you get in trouble for inviting me, though? I'm not even a Ranger." Will was to receive his bronze laurel wreath tomorrow; he wasn't even formally recognized as an apprentice yet.

"You're an apprentice one, that's good enough." Gilan ducked his head in. "Come on already. I told Halt I was bringing you, and you know how impatient he gets."

"But Gil-"

"Will, you're Halt's apprentice _and_ you did extremely well on your exams, or so I've heard anyway. Just come on. As long as you don't say anything rude or like, throw your soup bowl at someone's head, you'll be fine."

Grumbling good-naturedly, Will exited the tent and followed Gilan. "Wait, who said I did well on my exams?"

Gilan looked over. "Halt, actually. I overheard him talking to Crowley about how impressed the assessors were- on everything except unseen movement, he said." Gilan made a betrayed face at Will, who grinned innocently. "Don't let anyone know you know that, though. Halt would murder me if he knew I told you."

"Don't worry, I won't," Will assured him quickly, not wanting to lose his newfound friend.

The two soon ducked inside a huge tent- similar to the one Will had sat in on his last day at Camp Half-Blood. Like when he'd eaten breakfast in that tent, the dozen or so Rangers sitting inside instantly went silent when the newcomers slipped in.

Gilan gave them a winning grin. "Hey guys! I'm back, and I brought Halt's new apprentice, Will." Will gave an awkward wave. From his time in the streets, he'd learned that people staring at him was a very bad thing, and after all the tests he'd been through that day, he was stressed enough that he had to force himself not to convert into fight-or-flight mode.

"Oh, Will!" the redhead Ranger, Crowley, said, giving him a cheery wave. "Halt's been telling me a _lot_ about you!" Halt gave Crowley a murderous glare but the other Ranger seemed completely unperturbed. "Come on over, you two! I wanna get to know our newest member."

Still feeling very out of place and half tempted to turn tail and run right back out of the tent, Will stepped fully into the tent, looking around for a place in the corner somewhere where he could wrap himself in his cloak and pretend not to be there. But then his eyes met Halt's and the Ranger patted the ground next to him. Will felt his shoulders sag slightly. He didn't want to become the center of attention, not at all. Sadly, a first-year apprentice sitting next to Halt in a meeting with the senior Rangers was about as close to yelling _hey! Look at me!_ as one could get.

A reluctant Will picked his way over the Rangers lounging around in the tent, plopping down at Halt's right side. Gilan squeezed himself in next to Will, completely unrepentant as he forced another Ranger out of the way. Will gnawed at a piece of venison one of the Rangers had given him and listened to the conversations surrounding him. They varied widely; some spoke of how work was going, some spoke of politics, some debated about godly powers. Halt spoke little, unsurprisingly, but Crowley and Gilan seemed to be everywhere at once. One moment they would be talking to Will, the next they'd be poking fun at Halt and the next after that, pulling pranks on the other Rangers.

No one spoke much to Will, which he was glad for; the senior Rangers all had auras of such power Will was nervous even being around them. Gilan was always elbowing him and muttering things like, "That's a son of Poseidon there; real nasty piece of work if you piss him off. Oh, there's a Hecate; he's definitely not one to mess with," and so on. After about five minutes of this, Will gave Gilan a dry look and asked,

"Is there any Ranger in here you'd recommend my messing with?"

"Not really, no," came the cheery answer. Will groaned. Then a question came to him.

"Gil, do I have any siblings here?"

Gilan paused, thinking for a moment. "I'm not sure," he said finally. "Even among their own, Rangers can be a secretive bunch. I know the parentage of barely a quarter of the Rangers."

Will pursed his lips. "How many Rangers are there?" In between stressing out about his assessments and actually doing them, Will hadn't had much time to take in the Ranger camp. He guessed there had to be at least fifty Rangers, though. "There's one per state, right?"

Gilan shook his head. "Although that was the original intent, we underestimated the size and population of the states. Most states have two or more Rangers; California actually has five, since it's so large. All in all, I'd say we have...maybe around ninety Rangers?"

 _"Ninety?"_ Will hissed, eyes wide. He felt a measure of relief; surely Ferris wouldn't be able to completely wipe out the Rangers if there were ninety of them. "What happens when an apprentice becomes a Ranger and there's not a vacant spot?"

"Generally they have two choices: either stay with their mentor and help out there, or go to New York and help Crowley." At Will's confused look, Gilan elaborated, "New York City is where Olympus stands. As the Commandant, Crowley is charged to protect Olympus. But there aren't usually more than two or three new Rangers without stations at any point in time. At least one Ranger either dies or retires every year."

"Rangers can retire?" Will asked, confused. "I thought they were immortal. You can age?"

"Well, no. But we can still get badly injured- dismemberment is fairly common. If a Ranger isn't fit for work and hasn't done enough for the Corps to have Apollo heal them, they are allowed to retire. They can retain their immortality if they want. Some Rangers also choose to leave after a few hundred years. They get tired of the endless fighting and want a break."

"'A few hundred years'?" Will echoed. "How long have the Corps been around?"

"A while. Not as long as the Hunters, though. Maybe a thousand years? There aren't many old-timers left though. Most of them got killed in the World Wars."

"The World Wars? What-"

Halt elbowed him. "You're going to wear Gilan's ears out with your questions. How about you listen for once?"

Knowing that was Halt-speak for 'someone was asking you something and you completely ignored them,' Will hastily looked around to find Crowley looking at him, eyebrow raised.

"I'm sorry, sir!" Will said instantly, horrified he'd disrespected the Commandant- however accidentally. "I didn't hear you at all. I'm really, really-"

"Don't worry about it," Crowley told him. He had a smile much like Gilan's; mischievous and jovial. Will decided he liked the Ranger instantly. "I was just asking Halt about your stay at Camp Half-Blood and he told me he'd never asked. Can you believe it?"

Will just shrugged, not really knowing what to say. "It was alright, sir. The climbing wall- uh, the one with lava? That thing was awful. Every time I went on it I got second-degree burns. I went through so many shirts that Chiron ended up having to enchant them for me and-" he stopped, flushing, realizing he'd started babbling- and not in a complimentary way, either. "Sorry, sir."

"Oh, don't bother with the sir business," Crowley said cheerily. "You're one of us now! You don't have to speak up to us."

"Good luck getting him to drop the sir," Halt grumbled with a glare at Will. "Took him six months to stop calling me 'Ranger.'"

Crowley snorted, as did Gilan, but Will felt vaguely uncomfortable. "Oh, that's priceless!" Crowley crowed. "Halt, actually trying to get his apprentice to call him by his name! I _knew_ you were going soft!"

"I'm doing no such thing," Halt huffed, crossing his arms. "It's just not an economical use of breath. Halt has one less syllable, and it's easier to yell when one gets in trouble. Which," he added, glancing pointedly at Will, "some apprentices seem to get into quite a lot."

Despite Halt's defense, Crowley was still laughing, as was Gilan. The Commandant muttered something about Halt trying to save face and was elbowed quite severely by Halt. Then Gilan stage-whispered that Halt was _definitely_ going soft. Unable to easily reach the younger Ranger, Halt settled for death-glaring at him instead.

Despite their differences, the three men- Crowley, Halt, Gilan- all seemed like a family. As Will watched, feeling like an outsider looking in on something intimate, his chest ached until he couldn't stand it anymore. As soundlessly as he could, Will stood up and fled the tent.


	11. Chapter 11

"Gilan," Will started, nervously fingering his brand-new bronze laurel wreath. He'd just gotten it that day, and already it felt like a part of him.

The Ranger turned to look at him inquiringly. "What's up, Will?"

Will's gaze shifted from Gilan's face to the golden, lyre-emblazoned tin sitting in front of them. The fourth year apprentice had slammed into him during the apprentice competition, giving Will a terrible concussion. Like Halt had predicted, Will had lost the competition- pretty badly, too. After he'd woken up seeing everything in double and then proceeded to violently throw up several times, Halt had carried him back to their shared tent and placed the tin down on the ground next to Will.

It had been a month since the drakon incident- where Will had discovered ambrosia now tasted like Halt's stew. He hadn't had any ambrosia since, so now he eyed the tin distrustfully, wondering if it'd still taste like stew or if it would be back to sawdust.

"Have you ever heard of ambrosia...changing taste for someone?"

Gilan considered him. He was probably wondering if Will was loopy because of the concussion. Will privately agreed he probably was, but Gilan still seemed to take pity on him, for he slowly answered, "Yes, occasionally. Why?"

Will opened the tin and took some ambrosia out. It looked the same as always: honey-gold and a little squishy. Before he responded, he popped it into his mouth and started chewing. Just like last time, it seemed to take on the quality and taste of stew. Will had to fight spitting it out- not because of the taste, but out of surprise. Somehow, he'd still been expecting it to taste like sawdust.

"It did for me," Will finally responded, swallowing.

"Oh. What's it taste like?"

"What's it taste like for you?" Will retorted. He vaguely remembered Halt telling Will what ambrosia tasted like for Gilan, but he couldn't quite recall what it was.

"My dad used to make these s'mores whenever we went camping. They're probably the childhood memory I treasure the most. Whenever I have ambrosia, it tastes like that to me. Now, Will," Gilan said teasingly, "I do believe it's your turn."

Will gulped. He wasn't sure he entirely liked the parallel between Gilan's ambrosia relating to his dad and Will's with... "Do you know why it changes?"

Gilan shrugged. Thankfully the ambrosia had already started working, so Gilan looked to only have two shoulders instead of four. "No, not really. Well...it seems to be associated with a favored memory. Maybe if the previous memory wasn't liked as much anymore."

Will shook his head slowly, then immediately regretted it when his temples started throbbing. "I don't think that's why." Will couldn't remember any particular memory centered around Halt's stew.

The older male bit his lip. He seemed to be considering whether or not to tell Will something. "This is purely speculation, but...well, I was curious as well, so I started asking around. Married Rangers often have food their wives cook, teenaged demigods in Camp Half-Blood have stuff related to a parent or a sibling, Hunters tend to have something one of their fellow Hunters cook...and then I heard Halt and Crowley talking and both of theirs is related to their mentor Pritchard, the man that was like a father to both of them..."

Will decided the bad feeling in the pit of his stomach was purely nausea from his concussion, despite how the ambrosia was already beginning to heal the symptoms.

"...and then I realized mine was related to my dad and something clicked. I think ambrosia isn't just based on, like, comfort food or a good memory." Will closed his eyes, wishing his brain hadn't already jumped to the inevitable conclusion of Gilan's speech. "I think, in part, it's also based on people you love. People you care about. Maybe even what you think of as your home. So, if the person or place you considered your home changes...then so would the taste of ambrosia." After a pause Gilan continued, sounding curious, "So what's it taste like?"

"It used to taste like sawdust," Will said softly, staring up at the darkening sky- it was almost nine already, somehow. "By your theory, that means..." He paused. "Now, it's- don't laugh at me, Gil."

"I wasn't laughing."

"I know, but you might once you hear." Gilan spread his hands in a questioning gesture. Face burning, Will mumbled, "You know that stew Halt always makes? The one with-"

"Oh my gods, really?" Gilan's grin was huge. Will felt his face turn even redder.

"I said not to laugh!"

"Me?" Gilan asked in a strangled tone, very obviously trying not to laugh. "Laugh? Why would I do that?" He finally broke on the last word as Will glared at him, bursting into loud and, in Will's opinion obnoxious, laughter. "Out of anyone you could've possibly chosen-" Gilan choked. It took him a few seconds to right himself. "That's just so adorable, Will. So- ow!"

Will kicked at him again; this time Gilan skilfully moved out of the way. "Gil," Will said plaintively, "It's really not funny. I didn't- I mean, I don't..."

"Hey, don't fret." Gilan's face had finally returned to semi-seriousness. "It's not a big deal. You consider Halt's cabin your home; so what?"

"So," Will said a bit childishly, "So I've never had a 'home' before, and now it's- it's-" _now it's with the one person it can never be with._

"That's okay," the Ranger said reassuringly. "I know Halt thinks highly of you; even if he doesn't think of you the exact same way, I know he does care about you."

That hadn't even occurred to Will. What if Halt _didn't_ think of Will the same way?

...what if Halt _did,_ and he found out Will had betrayed him?

For the past seven months, Will had learned more and more about the Rangers, had met more and more of them himself. Out of every single Ranger he'd met, none of them seemed to deserve whatever Ferris planned to do to them. Will still wasn't sure what Halt had done to make Ferris hate him that much, but with every passing week, Will felt more and more sure Halt did not deserve the death Ferris had planned for Halt. Even though he still didn't trust his master fully, it was more because of Will's upbringing than Ferris's accusations.

And now...now Will realized that, for the first time, he had a home. He had Tug, his loyal companion. He had Crowley, his Commandant who'd done his best to make Will feel welcome whenever he could. He had Gilan, his closest friend and confidant. And he had Halt, the person who had taken care of him, who'd trained and sheltered him and never once asked for anything in return- except that Will stop asking questions.

Yes, perhaps Halt was biding his time. Perhaps he was waiting for Will to trust him fully before he betrayed Will just as Ferris had. That was one of the reasons Will couldn't quite fully trust him. Will had used to have a trusting nature, yes. But then he'd been struck for the first time by someone who said they were his protector, his caretaker. He'd run away a year later when the slaps had turned into beatings and his 'caretaker' had sunk deeper into alcoholism. So now Will didn't trust those who said they would take care of him, who held any sort of power of him. Because that power had been abused before; who was to say it wouldn't be again?

But even still...

Even still, even if Halt wasn't worthy of trust, even if he would betray Will eventually, even if he'd turn into the orphanage caretaker who'd hurt Will when he got drunk...even still, Will didn't think Halt deserved to be betrayed, severely tortured, and killed.

"Gilan?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think Halt's a good person?"

"That's a weird question, Will. You sure you don't need some more ambrosia?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

Will gave a semi-exasperated look to his friend. "The thumb doesn't _count_ as a finger, Gilan."

"Well, you're learning," Gilan decided with a cheery grin, before sobering. "To answer your question...I'm not sure I'd say anyone's really 'good.' We've all made mistakes, and we've all hurt other people. I think we're bad people by nature. But if you mean 'is Halt going to kill me in my sleep?' then I'd say no. He's not exactly nice or sympathetic, as you know, but he does care about some people, and he has lines he won't cross."

Will nodded slowly. Gilan's answer had fit in with what he'd already thought of Halt himself, and Gilan had apprenticed under the man as well. "I'm getting kinda tired," he told Gilan apologetically, "I think I might just go to sleep now."

"Alright," the other agreed easily, standing up. "I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early!"

Will groaned, pretending to sleep until he'd gauged enough time had passed for Gilan to leave. Then he crawled back into the tent and shut the flaps, piling bedding and other supplies in front of it so he'd at least have a warning when Halt came.

Once everything had been set up, Will reached into his pocket and pulled out the Stygian mirror. Ferris had insisted on a meeting during the Gathering. Now, Will needed to think up a lie to get out of telling Ferris anything- or everything.

He closed his eyes and gripped the mirror.

Then it warmed. Will's eyes opened in panic. He knew he hadn't called Ferris, so that meant there could be only one other option. Ferris was calling him.

* * *

He'd done it.

Will was barely aware he was shaking as he slipped the ice-cold, pitch black mirror back into his pocket, as he hugged his knees to his chest and stared at the pile of bedding in front of the tent entrance, behind where dozens of Rangers milled about packing, laughing, practicing.

He'd done it. Ferris had insisted on a meeting. Will had been unable to think up a lie he could use to escape it.

His vision blurred and his chest tightened. He hoped to Apollo that Halt wouldn't come for at least another couple minutes. Will needed time to recover, to pull himself back together again. His stomach was slowly untying from the knots it had been in; his breathing and heart-rate were still skyrocketing.

"I did it," he whispered slowly, as if he couldn't quite believe it. "And he didn't catch me."

It was a relief larger than any he'd felt before that had made Will act that way; shaking, hyperventilating, torn between laughter and tears. Ferris had, like Will had known he would, asked for the location of the Gathering. Will had looked into Ferris's manic eyes and he'd known instantly. There was no way he could betray Crowley, Gilan, Halt like that. He'd done enough already. He'd told Ferris the hierarchy, the techniques, the states and rough locations of several Rangers. He'd given Ferris enough and Will had finally decided as he looked at Ferris...

George, Jenny, Alyss. Crowley, Gilan, Halt. Three for three. Either Will risked two friends and the girl he liked getting killed, or he risked his Commandant, his closest friend, and his master getting killed. It was an impossible choice, but he'd had to make it.

"Will, why do you have all our bedding piled up behind the entrance?"

Will froze. Halt was back far, far sooner than he'd expected. He hastily lay down and said, "Didn't want Gilan to bother me. 'M tired."

Halt sighed. There was the rustle of fabric and Halt appeared through the low entrance, arms full of blankets and sheets. Will was suddenly very grateful he'd kept his own bedding; it made his story much more believable.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better." Will didn't really feel like mentioning ambrosia at the moment.

Thankfully, Halt didn't pursue it further. He just nodded and threw his bedding back down on the ground. Even though the tent was large enough to easily fit five people, Halt with his great love of privacy had decided to occupy it with just himself and his apprentice- Gilan and Crowley had been forced to take the tent Halt had brought. That meant Halt and Will's sleeping places were very far apart.

"What did you think of your first Gathering?" Halt asked unexpectedly after a few minutes of silence other than Halt fletching arrows.

"It was alright, si-" Will bit his tongue. Despite himself, he still felt his mouth form sir's and Ranger's, usually after meetings with Ferris. Halt never looked too happy, but since he didn't usually even make that mistake, Will gracefully ignored Halt's reaction to it.

They lapsed into silence again. Around a half-hour later, Will sensed the lights beginning to go out around camp. Halt turned the electric lamp he'd been using off and rolled into his blanket, breathing evening out within minutes. Will lay awake for longer, staring up at the canvas ceiling. But eventually, he too fell asleep.

* * *

The next morning dawned bright, clear, and brisk- exactly how Will liked it best. He and Halt dismantled their tent and loaded up their horses, giving the tent back to Crowley and taking back their own. By seven, all ninety Rangers had set out.

The Gathering Grounds were somewhere up in the mountains of Colorado, in an attempt to place it at least somewhere in the middle of America. Therefore upon leaving, the Rangers split basically in half, one half heading to the west and the other to the east. They set off at their horses' marching pace- somewhere around half again the speed of even the fastest mortal racehorse- and settled in for a long ride.

As the day passed, Rangers slowly peeled off of the group. The third year Will had managed to befriend left at around noon, heading down to Oklahoma. A few hours before dusk, the fourth year and his master sharply veered away for Michigan. As the second day progressed, more and more Rangers began to slowly head off in their own direction, leaving only two dozen or so Rangers left by the time they neared Ohio. Once there, Will gratefully saw off Meralon, a young Virginia-based Ranger who'd been nonstop rude and arrogant to him. That left a much smaller group of around twenty, including Will and the newly graduated fifth-year, who'd be following Crowley to Olympus until a place opened up for him.

Other Rangers- the Ohio Rangers and the respective Rangers of New Jersey, Delaware, and Maryland- broke off around noon of the next day, leaving thirteen only. A brief hold-up prevented Will and Halt from reaching their residence, located close to the border between Pennsylvania and New York (the other two Pennsylvanian Rangers had reached their homes an hour or so earlier), so they set up camp for the night around an hour or so away from Halt's cottage. Will now had a vague idea of where he was and how to navigate; he'd only rarely been out this far, since Halt didn't like testing their horses' stamina.

Crowley and about half of the Rangers left the campsite to hunt, leaving Will, Gilan, Halt and four others to set up the tents and unpack the horses. Will helped the others, all the while wondering why he felt tense all of a sudden. He'd had an uncomfortable, wary feeling the entire trip back, but now it seemed much increased. He didn't know what to make of it, so he quietly mentioned it to Gilan.

"What is it you said you feel?" Gilan responded, something approaching urgency in his tone. "I've felt like I was being watched the whole way back. I thought it was just another Ranger, but if you're saying you've felt it, too..."

Will nodded slowly, looking around at the deep, dark shadows of the forest. "I'm not sure if that's what it is, but I think so. Halt's trained me to sense when people are watching me." At Gilan's clear 'you kind of just contradicted yourself' look, Will flushed. "Well...maybe I haven't completely learned it yet."

"Maybe," Gilan said a little dryly, before sobering. "We should bring this up to Crowley when they come back. If he's been feeling it too, then we'll take more precautions. Now that our group's smaller, we're a lot less of a challenge for any monsters parading around these woods. They're probably what's been tracking us, anyway; a group of powerful demigods all traveling together should gather monsters from miles around."

"Then shouldn't Crowley expect that to happen every year?" Will asked.

"Well, no. Monsters generally have _some_ brains, you see. They recognize that a group of Apollo's Rangers- even a smaller group- is extremely dangerous. Enough of them have been killed by us over the years that they've learned to avoid us. Which means that whoever's following us..."

Will suddenly got a very bad feeling in his stomach. Whoever was following them was either dumb enough to think they could beat the Rangers...or was strong enough to feel confident that they could.

"Gilan," Will started, but before he could finish, the shadows he'd been watching earlier suddenly expanded and grew. And out of each one came a hellhound. Gilan let out a long, shrill whistle. Will had no idea what it meant, but the five other Rangers must've, for they instantly dropped whatever they'd been doing, unslung their longbows from their backs, and nocked arrows to their bowstrings. Will followed suit a moment later.

The hellhounds were just as Will had remembered: huge, black, and vicious. They sprang forward so quickly Will had barely fired before one was upon Gilan and him. Gilan shot at it, but the arrow only struck its shoulder and the superficial wound scarcely seemed to slow it down as it clawed Gilan across the chest. Will fired again, but his arrow sank into the huge creature's neck: still not a fatal blow. It turned to Will, snarling, before it stiffened and turned back to Gilan. As if it were...ignoring Will.

Will's heart dropped about to his stomach. He knew that it hadn't just chosen to ignore him because it thought he was insignificant.

It had recognized him.

Another hellhound ran towards him. Will shot it just off the chest; it staggered drunkenly and howled, but then it, too, saw who his attacker had been and turned away, heading to another Ranger instead.

Since the hellhounds refused to attack Will, he took the opportunity to see how the other Rangers were doing. The massive bodies of four hellhounds already lay unmoving on the ground, but one Ranger was also on the ground- still breathing, Will saw with relief, but badly injured. Unsurprisingly, Halt was fine, fighting back to back with another Ranger against two of the creatures. A third was attacking Gilan, who despite his wound was still holding his own. He'd switched from his bow to his sword, made of Stygian iron like his daggers. The other two Rangers were dealing with a final hellhound.

Not trusting his combat abilities enough to actually try helping his comrades out, Will instead ran to the injured Ranger- Colt, he thought.

"Where are you hurt?" he murmured urgently, unsure of how bad it was. There wasn't much blood, but that wasn't always a very good indicator of the damage sustained.

"Leg," Colt gasped out. "Leg and...shoulder."

Will nodded and knelt beside the older man. He briefly assessed the two wounds and decided to work on the shoulder first. Halt had told him to work first on the torso, then head, then limbs. Head wounds bled a lot, but were rarely severe enough to cause immediate death- and if they were, he'd said, then the person would already be dead.

He put his hands on the Ranger's shoulder and closed his eyes. After healing Halt, Will had been even more repulsed by the sheer vulnerability and lack of control he had when healing that way, so he'd dedicated himself to only healing via hymns. Halt had obligingly taught him more, and it was one of those Will now used; one meant for healing muscle tissue, repairing bone, sealing over wounds.

The entire process lasted around two minutes. By the time he'd finished, the sounds of battle had ceased. Will took his hands off Colt's shoulder and looked around to see the others staring at him. All were dirtied, bloodied, and bruised, but other than Gilan's gash no one seemed injured enough to need healing. Will had just put his hand on Colt's leg when a tree branch cracked. Will knew instantly it wasn't the Ranger hunting party returning. No Ranger was careless enough to step on a tree branch.

Will slowly turned around, already dreading what he was about to see.

"Well done, Will," Ferris told him, smiling a sickening smile at him. "I see you've done your part quite well here."

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm a firm believer in the 'ambrosia isn't just the partaker's favorite food' thing. If you think about it, most people in the PJ series have ambrosia taste like something their parents make. For Percy it's Sally's blue cookies; for Piper it's her dad's black bean soup, etc. Now, if it were a favorite food, do you really think all of them would have their parent's foods? Not everyone's parent is a great cook. If it were truly a favorite food, the PJ kids would be having, like, pizza or macaroni or something from a fancy restaurant.

In addition, the one person whose ambrosia doesn't taste like a parent's food, Jason...his ambrosia tastes like something from New Rome. BUT this was when Jason was beginning to realize he belonged in Camp Half Blood instead of New Rome...and guess what? It tasted bitter.  
Jason realized his home wasn't really his home anymore, and the ambrosia reflected that.


	12. Chapter 12

Will was horrifyingly aware of Halt's gaze burning into his back, of Gilan's confusion. "W-What?"

"Don't play dumb, Will," Ferris crooned. The madness in his eyes was stronger than ever, a hurricane waiting to be unleashed. "You know very well what you did."

"I didn't do anything," Will protested, a desperate note creeping into his words. "I haven't- the Gathering, I _told_ you-"

"Ah, yes. You tried very hard with that, didn't you?" Ferris scoffed. "Well, look at how all your hard work has paid off." He motioned grandly to the dead hellhounds, to Colt's broken leg, to Gilan's bleeding chest. Will stared around at them, at the confused faces of the Rangers, at the narrowed eyes of Halt.

"I didn't- I didn't do it," Will said. But even as he did so, he wondered if he was trying to convince the others or himself.

Ferris laughed again, a maniacal cackle that made Will flinch, then turned to the very man Will wanted to look at least. "Well, Halt, what's wrong? You've been very quiet, haven't you? Not that that's unusual."

Silence. Will refused to look at his master. Then Halt's voice answered. "You speak as if you know me."

"Oh...yes. I completely forgot about that, didn't I? My fault." Ferris reached under his shirt and pulled out a golden chain with a strange, swirling symbol on it and a star in the middle.

Will had never seen such a thing, but Gilan muttered as if to himself, "Hecate."

"Quite right," Ferris said. "The goddess owed me one, so this is what she gave me." He ripped the chain off his neck. The necklace thumped to the ground. Even as it did so, Ferris began to change. His hair darkened, then lightened with grey; the lines of his face sharpened, then dulled back again with age. He grew taller, broader, more muscular.

Will finally risked looking back at Halt.

And looked back at Ferris again.

He looked older than Halt now, but other than that...they were identical.

"Ferris." Halt's tone was even, but his eyes blazed in anger. "I thought you were dead."

"Of course you did," the man hissed. "You all did! Didn't you realize that a son of Hades can come back up to the Earth whenever he so wishes? We aren't constrained by death, you fool!"

"You're the fool," Halt said quietly. "You would dare disrespect the Fates like that? You died, as was your time. The Fates cut your thread. You should not be alive anymore. You should not be here. Father knows the wisdom of that, so why can you not learn it?"

 _Father?_ Will wondered dazedly, before it occurred to him that both men were sons of Hades. And so his eyes widened and a suspicion began to build. Children of the same god tended to look alike, yes, but this alike? If it weren't for the fact that Ferris looked around a decade older than Halt, Will would've thought they were twins. Was it possible they were full siblings? Did gods even stick around the same mortal long enough for that to happen?

Ferris snorted contemptuously. "Always the goody-goody one, aren't you Halt? You've always been the one to stick to the rules- more than I, anyway."

"Yes, I'd say that attempting to murder me is indeed outside the rules," Halt said very, very dryly. "But enough of that. I assume you still want me dead, yes? Then why send such a pathetic attack? Surely that wasn't your try at offing me once again."

"No, don't be daft," Ferris scoffed. "That was my attempt at offing the rest of your precious Corps. Sadly, I underestimated them. It seems Will's reports weren't as good as they could've been."

Will's heart sank into his stomach as every person in the clearing swung their head to look at him; Ferris triumphantly, Gilan in horror, the others in anger. Will still kept from locking eyes with Halt.

"Didn't you tell them?" Ferris continued, though the question was more rhetorical than anything. "Didn't you tell them how you willingly came into my service? How you shared their secrets with me? Haven't you told Halt my plan for how I'm going to kill him...every single burn, every broken bone, every cry of pain?"

"No, no I didn't- I didn't come willingly," Will pleaded desperately. "You-"

"Don't try to back out of it now," Ferris crooned, tone suddenly smooth like silk. "You think they'll believe anything you say now? Foolish boy."

Will looked around at the Rangers. His former friends. Gilan's eyes were shiny with tears, one hand clenched into a fist. The other Rangers were glaring at Will with all the hatred of betrayal.

And Halt...

For the first time since Will had known him, Halt looked shocked. And then the shock changed to anger and the anger to pain and then...then nothing. Then Halt's expression smoothed, becoming an emotionless mask. "Will," he said, tone cool and detached. "Is this true?"

Will had to bite his lip to stop the tears flooding to his eyes. Despite his own brother telling him Will had betrayed them, despite Will not denying that he had, despite Ferris telling them Will was lying about being forced to do it, Halt still wanted to give Will a chance to explain. To tell them no, Ferris was wrong. Will hadn't betrayed them. Somehow, it hurt so much more that Halt was giving him a chance.

More than anything, Will wanted to be able to say no, it wasn't true. But once again, Will was a fundamentally honest person. Despite the hostages Ferris still held over his head, Will had made a choice to do this. He _had_ betrayed the Rangers, however unwillingly. He _had_ lied, he had told secrets of theirs, he had given away names, locations, training techniques. Will had brought all of this unto himself. He would not lie now.

"Yes," he said, so softly it could barely be heard even in the deathly stillness of the clearing. "I did it. I'm-" he bit his tongue to stop the last word. _Sorry._ He was so very sorry. But none of that mattered anymore. Even if he hadn't told Ferris where the Gathering was, he had still found them, and Will knew it was more than likely because of him.

"Bartell, Victor, handcuffs." Halt didn't even glance at Will as he spoke. For his part, the boy didn't struggle as they bound his arms and legs together and gagged him. Will had exchanged a few words with Bartell; he was one of the senior Rangers and one of the people Halt trusted more. Victor was younger and Will knew him only by name. Whereas Bartell looked like it hurt him to do it, Victor's anger was vicious and brutal. Will found himself wishing Bartell's approach was more like Victor's; it only wrenched at his heart more.

 _I didn't want to do this!_ He wished he could scream. _I just didn't want three innocent people to die. Please, you have to believe me!_

Victor shoved Will roughly to the ground. His head slammed into a rock and he bit back a grunt. Bartell murmured a reproof; Victor hissed a curse and stepped away. Meanwhile, Halt was walking towards Ferris. Gilan was trying to stop him, glancing back at the other Rangers and saying something Will couldn't make out, but whatever the young Ranger was saying, it wasn't making any headway with Halt. The older man shook him off and kept walking.

"You're still so confident," Ferris told him. "You always were the more confident. It makes sense, I suppose; you got the better side of the deal when it came to Father's powers."

"You wanted your powers," Halt said steadily. "Ever since birth, the only two things you've wanted have been wealth and power."

"That doesn't matter," Ferris bit out. "You got Father's favored powers! You were his favored son! Just because you were born two minutes before, _you_ got the birthright! You never deserved to act as his lieutenant!"

Halt didn't favor that with an answer. He simply drew his knives. Around him, a semi-transluscent black sphere flickered to life and the ground rumbled. Ferris gave a cackle and drew his Stygian iron sword, black as death and perfectly matching his brother's knives. He stabbed the long blade into the ground and a score of skeleton warriors sprang up from the ground and drew their weapons. More followed and began surrounding Halt, but the Ranger didn't seem the least bit concerned.

Halt murmured something Will recognized as Ancient Greek and a dozen skeletons instantly disintegrated. With unnerving calm, he sliced his saxe knife through the air and a wave of darkness arced through the air, cutting a half-dozen more skeletons in two. As they crumbled to ash, Halt tapped one foot on the ground lightly. A gaping fissure opened in the ground and swallowed the rest of the skeletons whole. Halt tilted his head slightly as he stared at Ferris. His knuckles whitened around the handles of his knives and the abyss he'd created sealed shut, leaving behind as evidence a jagged, running expanse of bare dirt.

"You've improved!" Ferris said. "Good. I didn't want this to be an easy fight." As he spoke, dozens more skeletons rose from the ground and he clenched his free hand into a fist, jerking it towards the sky palm up. It took Will a second to see what he'd summoned; a mountain of gold and silver coins that the son of Hades proceeded to chuck at his brother. The Ranger melted back into the shadow of a tree and the coins hit several of the skeletons, sending them tumbling to the ground in a pile of ash and bone.

Halt appeared in the shadows barely a foot away from Ferris's back. It was then that Will saw Halt's face clearly for the first time the entire fight. He looked dangerously close to becoming unhinged; his jaw was clenched and his every muscle taunt and tense. His eyes were wild, and for once Will was afraid of him. Halt looked as if he could very easily kill Ferris. And once that had been accomplished, maybe Will, too.

Halt's arm moved back to throw, but Ferris sensed the movement before the knife could reach him and ducked, the knife whistling over his head and hurtling into a skeleton. Now it was Ferris's face Will couldn't see as the man turned around to face Halt, but his voice was clearly livid as he said, "I _will_ kill you this time, Halt. I have spent forty years planning for this; you will _not_ best me now."

Once again the Ranger didn't respond, but his eyes narrowed and his lips tightened. Then Ferris leaped forward, black sword raised. Halt dodged easily, but when Will looked down at the Ranger's hands, only his saxe knife remained. In horror, Will realized Halt's throwing knife was at the other side of the clearing. Bound and gagged, there was nothing Will could do about it, but...

"Gilan!" Will said, or tried. With the gag, it came out as a muffled grunt. But even muffled it served its purpose, for the young Ranger turned to him inquiringly. Will spared a moment to be grateful Gilan hadn't Bartell's hurt or Victor's anger; it would've taken longer to get his message across. Desperately, Will motioned with his head to the discarded knife lying on top of ash, then nodded towards Halt. He hoped Gilan would get the message and if not, at least work it out for himself. After all, Halt's former apprentice would surely realize Halt was without a much-needed weapon sooner or later.

Gilan nodded in understanding and dashed over to the knife. "Halt!"

The grizzled Ranger looked up. The momentary distraction cost him; as he took his eyes off his opponent, he was a fraction of a second too late deflecting Ferris's strike and it grazed his leg. He let out a hiss but still managed to catch the knife in midair- how, Will would never know- and brought it to bear against Ferris the next instant. Now with two knives, he could fight against his brother's longer blade with equanimity.

For long minutes the brothers' conflict raged, neither one succeeding in pushing the other back. Arcs of destructive force so powerful it took Will's breath away raged and he realized just how much Halt had been holding back when he'd fought the drakon. Will had thought Halt powerful then, but now the two sons of Hades together had the might of twin tornadoes. When Halt had fought the drakon, he had been cautious, almost afraid. Now the very air seemed to shy away from him.

Ferris summoned precious metals and stones- coins, rocks, jewelry- that he threw at Halt, but the Ranger had control of the earth itself. Immovable rock protected him when shadows would not, and when all else failed he faded into darkness, teleporting out of harm. Ferris summoned scores of skeletons, but Halt's very words could turn them to ash. Halt had all the might of a nuclear bomb, and the fury in his eyes was the countdown until he exploded.

Will wasn't sure how long they fought; just that, as the shadows steadily lengthened and the light dimmed, the sons of Hades grew not weaker, but stronger. But as the minutes passed on, the two men slowly grew tired. Ferris's scores of skeletons turned into dozens, then half-dozens. Halt's earthquakes turned into tremors and each time he shadow-traveled, it seemed to cost him more.

Eventually, they abandoned ranged combat and moved to melee once more. Even tired they fought at a speed so fast Will could barely process it, their blades flashing so swiftly it seemed only a constant arc of darkness in the dim light of the fire the Rangers had dared to kindle. But eventually, one had to make a mistake severe enough to turn the fight to the other's favor. Ferris made it: he left his guard wide open in an attempt to score a devastating strike on his opponent. Halt's saxe caught Ferris in the ribs and he staggered backward, his sword barely managing to catch Halt's knife before it could penetrate too deep. But now he was off balance and his guard once again too slow. Halt attacked again and again; stabbing, hacking, slashing. No blow of itself was mortal, but as they began to accumulate, Ferris grew weaker and weaker. Finally, Halt's leg swung out and Ferris toppled to the ground.

Halt didn't hesitate. He raised the blade and brought it down, straight towards Ferris's throat.

But at the last second Ferris rolled into a deep shadow cast by an ancient fir tree and vanished. Halt's knife hit only bloodied leaves.

For a few seconds, everyone seemed to hold their breath. Then Halt wiped his knives on the grass to clean them, sheathed them, and straightened. His face, only faintly illuminated by the firelight, was unreadable. After a moment he started towards Will.

"Take out the gag."

Bartell reached down and ripped out the offending material. Everyone else watched in tense silence as Halt moved closer. "Finn, Victor, tend to the fire if you would. Bartell, if you could check to make sure Crowley didn't get lost in the woods with the rest of the Rangers. Gilan, get yourself and Colt ambrosia. You won't be returning to your stations until you're fully healed."

All this Will listened to in silence. Bartell's job, he knew, was not because Halt actually thought Crowley would get lost. Rather, he was worried Ferris had attacked them as well. Finn and Victor's was to get them out of the way; as younger Rangers, Halt didn't trust them with sensitive information. And Gilan's...that was because Halt didn't trust Will to heal Gilan and Colt himself.

Once they had all cleared out, Halt sat down on the ground in front of Will. Will could only see a faint outline of Halt's face, but it was enough for Will to know he didn't want to see it any clearer. Halt's expression was as cold and hard as Stygian iron. In a way, Will was relieved; the momentary display of emotion he'd seen from Halt before he'd fought Ferris had almost been too painful for Will to bear. This way, at least, Will would feel like he was getting what he deserved.

"With Ferris still out there and two of our Rangers injured, I don't have time to get the full story from you," the Ranger said quietly. "But Crowley and his group aren't back yet, so I'll ask you this." He paused, glanced away. A faint glimmer of fire came from a few yards away, but it wasn't enough for Will to see the Ranger's expression. "Did you tell him the location of the Gathering?"

"No," Will answered. He felt strangely disappointed; surely that question hadn't been the one his master had intended to ask him. But Halt just stared at him, so Will let a pleading note enter his voice. "Please, Halt, you have to believe me. I didn't tell him. I swear I didn't."

The Ranger regarded him for a long moment. He suddenly looked years older. "How could I possibly believe you now?" he said simply.

Will looked down. As he did, his eyes caught on Halt's torso; with the fire now blazing brighter, there was enough light to see the tear in the Ranger's shirt, the blood surrounding the rip. "You're hurt," he said softly. "I can..." Their eyes met for a long moment. Will broke eye contact first. He remembered how Halt had sent Gilan for ambrosia, even though Will could heal much quicker. _Had_ healed Halt much quicker. "Never mind."

A tense silence pervaded the air for several minutes. It was like when Will had first been apprenticed to Halt but worse, for now the heavy burden of betrayal weighed his shoulders down. There wasn't an easy fix for what he'd done, and Halt didn't even seem to want to hear the full story. Will supposed he really couldn't blame his former master; if Will had been betrayed like that, he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep himself as calm as Halt.

The slightest of sounds came to Will's ears. He turned and beheld Crowley and a half-dozen Rangers coming towards them, Bartell at the front. Apparently the latter hadn't had time to inform them of what had happened, for Crowley's jaw slackened in shock when he saw Will bound and with a gag lying next to him, and Halt, expression cold and closed off.

"What happened?"

Halt didn't reply. Instead he looked past Crowley to one of the other Rangers and said, "Sol, I need your abilities." A barely-audible intake of breath from everyone in the clearing. "Use them on Will. I'll ask the questions."

Wide-eyed, Will stared from Halt to Sol, a Ranger who looked to be slightly older than Halt (though again, since Rangers could choose what age they looked like, appearances were often deceiving) with blond hair and brilliant blue eyes. Was...was he going to be tortured? Did this demigod have the power to induce answers from anyone? He looked around at everyone, hoping that someone, at least, would take pity on him. But they all avoided his eyes; not even Gilan could look at him now.

Sol stepped forward and sat down beside Will. He placed one hand on Will's forehead. Instantly Will cringed back, a cry springing to his lips despite how he tried to hold it in.

"Be gentle!" Halt barked. "He's not used to people poking around in his head."

"I apologize." Sol's accent was strange, lilting almost. His clothing was also different than Will was accustomed to seeing, even among Rangers. It almost seemed like he and his clothing had come from the 1800s or even earlier...was that possible? Gilan had said the Rangers had been around for a thousand years, but he'd also said their order had almost gotten wiped out in the World Wars. Was Sol one of the survivors?

Sol poked at Will's mind again, this time more gently. It still hurt, but this time Will dug his nails into his palms in an attempt to ground himself. "You may initiate the interrogation, Halt."

Halt looked briefly up at Crowley. "Kronos's vessel managed to come back from the dead. He's been using Will as a spy to gain valuable information. He just attacked us, revealing Will and injuring two of our Rangers. I wounded him but he managed to get away."

The son of Hermes frowned. If the news about Will bothered him he didn't show it, focusing instead on what needed to be accomplished next. "We need to get to Olympus as soon as possible and report this, and with two wounded Rangers our group is vulnerable. We don't have time to get the full story from Will. I trust you to ask him what you deem as absolutely necessary; once you do so, we need to get to Olympus." Crowley held Halt's gaze for a moment more before walking away. Soon, the rest of the Rangers followed, leaving only Will, Sol, Halt, and Gilan.

"Gilan," Halt said after a few seconds, when Gilan stubbornly remained in the same spot. "You're injured. Go rest."

"I want to hear what Will has to say." Will had never heard such stony determination from the normally cheerful Ranger. If it were possible, his heart plummeted a little bit further.

Apparently sensing that Gilan wasn't going to back down, Halt heaved a sigh. "Very well. Don't get in the way." He directed his gaze back to Will. "First. Are you in full possession of your mind? Did Ferris brainwash you in any way?"

"No," Will said miserably. He wanted to say more but Sol's presence made it impossible. Somehow Will understood that he was to only answer the question; nothing more, nothing less. They didn't have the time for Will to say anything other than what was absolutely necessary. He clawed against the restriction, angry that they weren't even giving him a chance to fully explain himself-

Will fell backwards, hand jerking against the cuffs in an attempt to clutch at his head. It felt like it had been set on fire.

"Was it a lie?" Halt asked.

"No. He was resisting me, but not to tell a lie."

"What was it, then?"

Sol lifted one shoulder. "Not sure. Maybe he wanted to say something more, to make us lose time. In any case, as Crowley said we can't go around asking every little question we have." He grabbed Will's shirt collar and pulled him back up to sitting, then placed his hand back on Will's forehead. "Continue."

"Did you tell Ferris the location of the Gathering?"

"No."

Sol gave Halt a subtle nod. All three Rangers looked relieved.

"Is there anyone in the Ranger Corps that is in cohorts with Ferris and you?"

"Not that I know of."

"If you didn't tell him where the Gathering is, how did he find us?"

Will hesitated. A lick of flame inside his head made him answer. "I'm not sure. I think it might be the Stygian mirror I carry with me."

Halt stiffened. "Stygian mirror? You carry a Stygian mirror?"

"Yes."

"What for?"

"Communication. I was to call him every two weeks with new information."

Halt slowly nodded. "Did he tell you about the other uses for Stygian mirrors?"

"Halt," Sol warned. Halt ignored him.

"No." Will stared at Halt, confused. "There are other uses?"

"We're wasting time," Sol told the other Ranger, and was once again ignored. Will noted that Gilan, sitting behind Halt and Sol, looked just as confused as the son of Apollo felt.

Halt regarded him solemnly. "Stygian mirrors can be used by children of the Underworld to subtly influence minds. In extreme cases, they can also be used to kill the owner of a connected mirror."

Will's eyes widened. Ferris could have killed not just Alyss, but Will as well? If he'd suspected any of Will's lies... "'Subtly influence minds'? What does that mean?"

"It means that there's a reason your answering no to being brainwashed was neither true nor false. You weren't aware of it."

"That's impossible," Will said, as if to himself. There was no way he could've lied to Ferris as many times as he did if Ferris was influencing his mind. "No, I wasn't brainwashed." He stated it with more conviction. He only realized how that could've been interpreted when it was too late.

"He's telling the truth. He was neither influenced nor brainwashed in any way."

Halt's shoulders dropped the slightest bit. His face had held the slightest hint of hope that perhaps Will had truly not had a choice; now it was gone. "How long have you been reporting to Ferris?"

"Since the beginning of my apprenticeship."

Halt's jaw tightened, pain flickering in his eyes for a moment. Will wished the Underworld could open up and swallow him; surely even the Fields of Punishment would be better than this.

"If we hold you hostage, is there any chance we could use you as a ransom?"

Will actually laughed at that, low and bitter. What a fool he'd been all those months ago, thinking Ferris was his friend. It had been far too long since Will had even had a hope that Ferris cared for him in any way. That betrayal stung almost as bitterly as Will's own. "No. Ferris wouldn't care if I died."

"And yet you still worked with him?" That question burst from Gilan, who stared at Will, eyes desperately pleading.

Will tried to open his mouth and say _no! I didn't want any of this. I just couldn't let three innocents die. I didn't want to do this. I didn't want any of this to turn out this way. I would help you kill Ferris myself, if only I could._ But as he tried, Sol's presence prevented him from speaking.

"Halt. Is that question necessary?"

"...No," the grizzled Ranger admitted after a moment. "Last question: are you a danger to the Corps if we keep you with us?"

Will hesitated, thinking. Was he?

"No."

Ferris would still want to kill them all whether Will was with them or not.

"Alright." Halt nodded several times and stood up. "Sol, you can stop. Thank you for your services. Gilan, get the boy some food and water."

With a heavy heart, he watched as the three Rangers all walked off, part of the only family he'd ever had but now would never have again.

* * *

 **A/N:** So, this is the chapter where I shatter all your hopes and dreams for how the problem could've been solved. In my defense, this is how it was planned from the beginning, and it's also more realistic. Problems generally don't get solved under other people's noses, and Will's just a kid with a pretty bad childhood. I don't think you could realistically expect a fifteen year old boy to be able to solve a problem of this magnitude, alone.

In other news, for all the people who are #ragequitting my fic after this chapter (I'm sure there'll be someone across the three sites I cross-post this fic on lol): thank you for reading this far! You can imagine a nicer, less messy ending if you'd like, lol.


	13. Chapter 13

The ride to Olympus was awful. Since they didn't trust him with a horse, Will was once more forced to ride with Halt. Every minute of the ride was excruciating in that Halt still had one arm wrapped around him in order to keep him on Abelard. Will couldn't understand it: how could someone who'd just been betrayed possibly still care whether Will lived or died? If someone had betrayed Will, he didn't think he'd be able to be anywhere near that person.

Finally the familiar skyscrapers and city lights of New York neared. They had marched through the night at a Ranger's march pace: two hours at a gallop, one hour running beside their horses. Six hours in, they rolled up in their cloaks and all had went to sleep except Will, who was too nervous about the coming day to sleep, and Crowley, who took over watch for the entire two hours they slept. After that they'd mounted once more and kept moving.

By the time they reached New York, it was around eight in the morning. Will stared around at the all-too familiar buildings, relieved that the Mist covered the fact that a dozen cloaked men were riding around on horses that could travel faster than cars. He saw several people he recognized: street-vendors, gang-members, the one girl who'd once stolen everything he owned, and was thankful none seemed to notice him traveling by.

The Rangers reined in to a stop in front of the Empire State Building. Having never been inside, Will couldn't keep down the curiosity rising within him. Halt had once told him this was where Olympus was, on a 600th floor no ordinary person knew existed. Will had no idea how it was possible that a huge palace for Greek gods could not be known by the ordinary humans flying around above it, so he was extremely intrigued to figure it out. Plus, this might mean he could meet his dad!

He stopped in his tracks, frowning. On second thoughts, that might not be such a good thing. Apollo most likely wasn't going to be ecstatic his son had betrayed the order Apollo had founded and led for over a thousand years.

"Get moving," came Halt's voice behind him, sharper even than Will's first months as an apprentice. Will ducked his head and entered the building, but despite the pain in his chest he couldn't help but look around at the lobby.

Crowley strode right up to the receptionist and murmured a few words to her. She nodded and handed him a key card. The Commandant turned back around and motioned to the Rangers to come on and stepped into the elevator. Will followed. The elevator was large enough to fit around twenty people, so the Rangers should've managed to fit inside without any cramming, but no one wanted to stand next to Will and he ended up quarantined in a corner with the rest of the Rangers' backs turned on him.

Again, he wanted to protest that this _wasn't just his fault._ He had been threatened and coerced; Ferris had held the lives of three innocents over his head. Had he been supposed to just let them _die?_

Will turned away from them and put his head in his hands. Halt and Crowley were right. Will's innocence wasn't the important thing right then. What was important was the fact that Ferris was on the loose and a danger to the entire Corps. And not only that; although the Rangers didn't know it yet, Ferris had mentioned to Will how he'd like to control an entire continent. Although Will had no idea how he'd manage to get everyone to listen to him, he needed to tell them.

"Halt," he started timidly, flinching back when Halt's cold glare turned to him. "I-I know something about Ferris that needs to be said quickly."

"We don't have the time, boy," Halt said, and started to turn away.

"No, you need to listen! It's important!"

The elevator came to a stop and dinged. The doors slid open. Halt said grimly, "then you can tell it to the gods as well."

Will was too caught up in the tornado of his emotions that he barely even noticed the glory of Olympus. He barely noticed anything in the lengthy walk to the Hall of the Gods, not even the grand arches or the gorgeous scenery. Instead he felt his stomach slowly drop further and further into his feet.

Finally they entered the Hall of the Gods. It was the largest room he'd ever seen and he wondered again how something this huge could exist without becoming common knowledge. There were twenty thrones, all arranged in the exact same shape as the cabins at Camp Half-Blood. All twenty were occupied.

"Crowley Meratyn, son of Hermes and Commandant of Apollo's Rangers. You said you had intelligence of dire importance." The voice that spoke came from the head throne. It was made of platinum and flickered with lightning. Its occupant was, as were all the gods, twenty feet tall. He was dressed in a navy blue dress suit and his eyes were the electric blue Will remembered seeing many of Cabin One's occupants have.

"Yes, Lord Zeus. I was not there personally to witness this event, so in my stead, Halt will take my place." Will noted that, while Crowley's name had been suffixed by a last name, a title, and his parentage, Halt had none, as though Crowley knew there was no need to introduce Halt to anyone.

Halt stepped forward, pushing his hood back so his face was revealed. In a tone completely void of emotion and an expression equally so, he began to describe everything from Ferris's appearance to the revealing of Will's betrayal to Ferris's near death at the hands of Halt. "He shadow-traveled away before the knife could hit, my lord. We used Sol, son of Apollo, in order to interrogate Will. We didn't have much time but we managed to find that everything he did was willing. He was not brainwashed into betrayal."

Will stiffened near the end and his eyes darted to Sol. A son of Apollo? His own half-brother had interrogated him?

"I see." Zeus's voice betrayed nothing. "This is dire news. Kronos's vessel should not have been able to come back." He directed a glare down the aisle of thrones, straight to a black-haired, pale-skinned god who sat on a throne of skeletons and what Will knew was Stygian iron. Hades.

The god of the dead gave a shrug, although he looked annoyed at Zeus's implication. "I sent him to the Fields of Punishment after his death. How was I to know he wouldn't be subject to the same rules as the rest of the dead? I had no part in his resurrection. He does not have my blessing."

"Be that as it may," interjected a new voice, "We still have a problem on our hands. From Halt's account we know that his death has eliminated Achilles's curse, so he is no longer invincible. However, who is to stop him from going through it again? The last thing we need is a psychopathic, invulnerable son of Hades on our hands destroying America. No offense, of course, Brother."

"None taken, Poseidon," Hades replied, although he looked a little offended. "I will set Cerberus and two legions of my soldiers to guard the River Styx in order that this does not happen."

"I can send scouts around the country looking for him," someone else offered. Will guessed the goddess speaking could have been Iris. "I will contact the Ranger Commandant and Olympus once I find him."

There were murmurs of assent from the gods. Then Zeus spoke once again. "You have done well in bringing us this information, Crowley Meratyn. You are dismissed."

Crowley hesitated. "What about Will, my lord?" he asked, voice clearly reluctant.

Zeus's head turned towards the boy, who shrank backwards. "If he swears on the River Styx not to aid Ferris O'Carrick once more, he may travel with you for the time being. As it is, we do not have the time to give the boy a formal trial."

Will gulped and nodded hesitantly, knowing it was his only quick way out. "I swear on the River Styx not to betray the Ranger Corps."

"Then you may go." Zeus waved an arm imperiously. "May the Fates smile upon you, Rangers."

The walk back out of the Hall of Gods was completed in utter silence. Will could feel the suspicion radiating from over half the Rangers despite his oath. Despite how he'd started the walk right behind Halt and in the middle of the group, he was somehow shouldered out until he was walking behind them all, an unwanted and undesired tagalong. The knowledge made his chest ache.

The group stepped into the elevator with that same silence; indeed, no one spoke until the doors shut and it began its descent.

"So what's the plan?" That was Gilan from his place next to Halt. Will was once more shoved into a corner and Gilan very carefully did not make eye contact with him.

"We need to contact the rest of the Corps to tell them what's happened. Ansger, Halt, I need you to get the news to the others as soon as you can." Crowley took out a small object from his pocket; a four-sided dice. "Dad, please give me a good roll this time," he muttered and threw it to the ground. It landed on π, Pi. Crowley's shoulders sagged in relief as the dice morphed into a pair of winged sandals. "Right. I'll fly to all the Rangers on the east coast. Victor, if you could help with that. You can take Cropper along so your horse doesn't tire too quickly."

As Crowley strapped on the shoes, he turned to look at Ansger and Halt. "Which if you is better at traveling long distances?"

Halt glanced at Ansger. "I can travel as far as necessary."

The other Ranger shrugged. "Unlike Halt, my power is limited to use in the daytime. Iris has never much liked traveling at night. If the place I travel to is dark, I will be stuck between the two places until light returns. Thus, as long as I can be sure the timezone isn't going to prevent me from traveling, I may go wherever necessary."

"Alright. You can start work on the east coast, then once it starts getting dark move to the west. You'll have three more hours over there until nightfall. How many jumps can you make?"

"As many as necessary," Ansger replied. When Crowley just looked at him for a moment, the other Ranger grudgingly replied, "Perhaps ten if I need to be able to move afterward. If all I need is to pass on the word, fifteen."

Crowley glanced at Halt, who replied he could manage twenty, although he wouldn't be able to fight afterward.

"Would taking along another person make it harder?"

Ansger said it would; Halt said he'd be able to do thirty jumps with another. He didn't elaborate.

"Then take along another Ranger to help defend you. We have no idea what's going on in those places, so even if it tires you out more, you'll be protected."

Halt glared at him. "I don't need anyone else to defe-"

"Well, that's too bad," Crowley told him. "Because you're taking Will with you, and that's that."

Every single person except Crowley turned to look at the boy dubiously. Will could practically hear their thoughts. _Is Crowley out of his mind? Even if Will doesn't find a way around his oath, how's he going to be any help to Halt?_

After a few tense seconds, Halt sighed. "Very well. Do you want me to take Alaska and Hawaii as well?" The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Everyone slowly filed out.

"It would be preferable but if you're already tired, don't bother. Ferris wouldn't try and attack those places first."

Halt nodded. "We'll be off, then. We'll meet back up here tonight." He motioned Will to follow him and ducked under the now-empty receptionist's desk. The shadows weren't extremely deep, Will saw, but he supposed Halt thought they would do. "Your first few times shadow-traveling are probably going to leave you with some rather nasty side effects," Halt said. "As a son of Apollo you'll be affected more than most demigods, so if you need a break from it, tell me." Will nodded, despite not having the slightest intention of ever telling Halt something like that.

Halt grabbed Will's wrist. Darkness surrounded Will in a rush, complete and eternal; Will barely felt the rush of travel, just the terror of being alone in the dark. He'd always, always hated nighttime because of the darkness. This was a thousand times worse than even the worst night in the slums. He felt terror and nausea rise up inside him and had to fight not to wrench his hand from Halt's grip.

After what seemed like an eternity, the sickening rush of shadow travel stopped, but the darkness remained and Will couldn't feel Halt's hand on him anymore.

"H-Halt, where are you? I can't see!"

"I'm here." A hand landed on his shoulder. "We're inside a closet in one of the Ranger's houses. That's why you can't see anything."

Keeping one hand on Will's shoulder, Halt put the other on what Will assumed was a doorknob, since light streamed into Will's vision and they then stepped out into a hallway. The moment they did so, Will fell to his knees and vomited. He could still remember the absolute darkness- it had been so cold, so _lonely-_ how could he get through this thirty times?

He vomited again, this time into a bucket. He didn't remember there being a bucket. When he looked around, he saw Halt watching him. _Halt must've gotten the bucket,_ he realized dully.

"It'll get better," the Ranger told him. "The first time is always the worst. I passed out for several days my first time. Also ended up in a different country than I'd intended."

With a start, Will remembered why they were doing this in the first place and forced himself to standing. He'd been responsible for creating this problem. It would be dishonorable of him to shy away from it now. "I'm okay now," he managed. He wasn't quite sure if he sounded convincing.

In any case, Halt started down the hallway and Will was left with no other choice than to follow. The halls were just high enough not to give a short person like Will claustrophobia; he suspected that whichever Ranger lived there must also be fairly short. Unlike Halt's cabin everything was made of stone, even the heavy, ornate doors they passed by once or twice. Will felt rather like he'd been transported to a dwarf's cavern.

After a minute or so, Halt stopped in front of one of those doors. It looked just the same as any other door, but Halt put one hand on it and waited. Will watched, puzzled, but then the intricate designs carved into the stone flashed silver and the door swung open.

"Rolfe, it's Halt."

Will heard faint footsteps on stone and a Ranger appeared in front of them, slightly taller than Halt but appearing to be around the same age. "I'm sensing this isn't just a house call, especially as the Gathering was just a few days ago."

"You'd be right. My brother escaped the Underworld and is now on the loose. We aren't sure of his motives, but he harbors no love for the Rangers or even this continent. There's no telling what a madman could do. Be careful, and if you could spread the message to Samuel..."

"Consider it done," Rolfe said. "I know how taxing shadow-travel can be. I could contact Johann too, if you like?"

Halt shook his head. He was already beginning to turn away now that his message had been received. "No. It'll take you too far away from your station and we don't know where Ferris plans to attack next. We can't take the chance."

"Safe travels, then, my friend."

Halt lifted a hand in farewell and left, shutting the stone door behind him. Will followed.

The next few jumps were just as terrible. Each one came with the same feeling of overwhelming solitude and fear; each one ended with vomiting or dizziness or, occasionally, a few minutes without sight or sound. The first time that happened, Will panicked completely. He couldn't hear Halt's voice, nor could he see the light as he was led towards it. He barely even registered Halt's hand on his arm as he flailed around. Halt had to grab both arms and pin them down in order for Will to calm even slightly.

"Perhaps this was a bad idea on Crowley's part," Halt commented after Will's senses had returned to him. "This is too much for you. Perhaps it'd be better if you stayed here and let me go on by myself."

Will dug his nails into his fists in an attempt to ground himself. He looked over Halt. The Ranger was starting to look tired already. It wasn't very noticeable; his skin was a little paler, his eyes a little less focused, but Will knew it'd only go downhill from there. But at the same time if it continued on like this, Will wouldn't be in any shape to help Halt once he grew tired.

"If I don't go, will you at least take someone else? Ferris might be anywhere, and you won't be able to fight him when you're tired."

"Who would I take?" Halt asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm certainly not going to take one of the Rangers with me and leave you alone."

"Then..." Will's brain was starting to zone out. He brought himself back by digging his nails in a little farther. "Then I want to come with you."

"Will." Halt's voice was softer than Will had heard it be since his betrayal had become known. "You're in no condition to protect me. You were blinded for several minutes and panicking. If Ferris is somewhere, the best thing I could do was shadow-travel out quickly."

"But he could catch you when you're too tired to get away quickly," Will protested. "Please, Halt, I want to come with you."

The Ranger regarded him for a long moment. Then he sighed. "Very well. Eat some of this, though. It might help later on." He handed the ambrosia tin to Will. "I'll go find the Ranger here. You rest."

As Halt walked away, Will looked at the golden tin suspiciously. He popped a square of ambrosia in his mouth and chewed carefully, unsure of what would happen. He hadn't had any ambrosia since the conversation with Gilan, but he already had a bad feeling about what was going to happen. He grimaced, trying not to gag as the taste came to him.

It tasted like sawdust.

Will sat there for a while on the cold, wooden floor of the Ranger's house, staring at the opposing wall. Already, the times he'd felt belonging, like he had a home, were fading in his memory. He wondered if they'd even been real or if it was only a fever dream. If the reality was that Will was unwanted. Apollo had let fifteen years pass by without ever attempting to meet him; his own mother was dead or missing. The few friends he'd had had abandoned or betrayed him, and the one family he'd thought he had was gone.

Had he ever been wanted?

Will forced himself to swallow. The godly food settled into his stomach, a constant reminder of his loss. He felt some of the terror, some of the darkness fade from him, but most of it remained. Halt reentered the room and Will stood, handing the tin back to Halt.

"If your symptoms don't get better within five jumps," the Ranger said without preamble, "I'm leaving you behind."

"Yes, sir." Will held out one arm.

The next second, he was back in the dark.

The next time, Will remained blind for five minutes. He didn't panic, just waited for Halt to lead him around and press the tin in his hand. Will knew what Halt was thinking: how could a blind apprentice possibly of any help? Will didn't know. He just didn't want to leave Halt alone when Ferris was out there. If worst came to worst, Will could probably distract Ferris long enough for Halt to get away.

Will's sight had finally returned by the time Halt came back. The Ranger didn't say anything, just held out a hand for the tin. Then his hand touched Will's shoulder and they were flung back into darkness.

It took two more times for the blindness to go away; four more for Will to stop vomiting. By the time he'd adjusted enough to shadow-traveling to be able to function after a minute or so, Halt was slowing down. They were about halfway through; as Will looked at his master, he wondered whether Halt would be able to make it. The Ranger didn't say a single word of complaint, but his presence seemed fainter, like he was slowly becoming one with the shadows.

A few jumps later and Will was the one steadying Halt instead of the other way around. Halt always shoved him off once he could stand, but even the fact that he was accepting it in the first place was a sign of just how tired he was. After the next stop, it was Halt who reached for the ambrosia. He ate more than Will would ever dare to in one sitting.

On and on the pair went. Eventually it was Will who carried the message, leaving Halt behind to rest for a few minutes. At around the twenty-fifth jump Halt almost collapsed. Will knew it was only his tremendous willpower keeping him upright. Despite how terrible Will still felt after each one, he knew Halt felt much worse. He looked practically ghost-like.

"Halt, we should rest. I'm getting tired." He wasn't really, of course; he simply knew that telling Halt, _'you're_ tired. _You_ need rest.' was a very bad idea. It was a testament to Halt's condition that he actually seemed to consider Will's proposition for a few seconds; either that, or he was too tired to process it.

"We have seven more, including Hawaii and Alaska. We can rest then."

Will wanted to protest but stopped, knowing it'd do no good. Instead he just held out his arm and subjected himself once more to the shadows.

The last five were the most telling. Each time the darkness seemed to last an eternity, and afterwards Halt would collapse immediately.

By twenty-nine, he'd ingested enough ambrosia that it was dangerous even for him to have more.

At thirty, he teleported them into a darkened room and lay on the ground, unmoving. It took him fifteen minutes to wake up. Will again suggested they rest- surely Crowley wouldn't care if Halt was late to the rendezvous- but was again refused.

Thirty-one landed them in Alaska. As Will put his arms around Halt to steady him, he was alarmed when his hands almost seemed to go through Halt. Not for the first time, Will wondered if Halt would even be able to make the next jump.

Thirty-two had them in one of the smaller islands of Hawaii. After reciting the message, Will tried to convince Halt to sleep for at least a few hours before returning to Olympus. The Ranger looked like he could use a week and half of sleep _at least_ but Will was worried that at this rate Halt might die of exhaustion, or perhaps fade into the Underworld. Once again, Halt stubbornly insisted they leave. Will hesitantly plied him with one more square of ambrosia and put his hand in Halt's one last time.

They just managed to appear underneath the receptionist's desk before Halt slumped, lifeless. The next few minutes were a blur of panic. Will single-handedly dragged Halt's body out from the desk (enduring the shocked looks from mortal passerbys). The receptionist wordlessly handed him the keycard and helped Will drag Halt into the elevator. Will was fairly certain some mortal was calling the police at that point, but he decided he'd worry about it later.

The ride up to the 600th floor took entirely too long. At the top, Will once again had to drag Halt's body around. He sincerely hoped none of the lesser gods he saw walking around Olympus would think he'd been the one to do that to Halt.

"Crowley," Will called, and was shocked when his voice came out weak and frail. "Crowley!"

It took a few more tries, but finally he heard an answering, "coming!" and saw the son of Hermes running towards them.

"I tried to get him to stop," Will explained in a rush as Crowley took in the two of them. "I tried to say he didn't need to go to Alaska or Hawaii, or that he needed to rest, but he wouldn't. He's had all the ambrosia he can without burning up and I don't know what else to do. It feels like he's starting to fade from this world."

Wordlessly, Crowley ducked underneath Halt's body and helped Will support him. "We'll move him to the Ranger's quarters. They aren't far."


	14. Chapter 14

"What happened?" Crowley asked. Halt was now lying peacefully on one of the beds in the hospital quarter. Crowley hadn't dared give him anymore ambrosia after Will had told him that Halt had consumed the entire tin plus half of its refill, so instead they just had to wait. If worst came to worst, Apollo would almost certainly heal one of his best officers.

Hesitantly, Will dove into the story of what had happened. He didn't expect the Commandant to believe him but told the story as accurately as he could anyway, even telling Crowley how badly Will had reacted towards shadow-traveling the first few times.

"It felt like I was completely alone in the dark," he said at one point. "Have you ever shadow-traveled? Did it feel like that?"

"No." Crowley considered for a moment. "I think Halt must've been feeding off your energy."

Will stared at him. "He _what?"_

"It's a lesser known ability of the children of Hades, probably so because not many even have it- and the few that do, hate using it. A child of Hades can siphon energy away from anyone they make physical contact with. That's probably one of the reasons why you reacted so badly to shadow-travel."

"I don't feel tired, though," Will protested. The moment he did so, he realized it was a lie. His limbs felt like he had hundred pound weights tied to each one.

"You don't, do you?" Crowley asked, raising an eyebrow. Will put one hand on a bed-frame for support and smiled sheepishly.

"Maybe a little." Will sat down on a bed next to Halt's, relieved to not be on his feet anymore. As he did so, he felt his eyes begin to droop and forced them back open. Now that the adrenaline of getting Halt to safety had worn off, he was the one who felt like he could sleep for a week and a half. But... "Crowley, how come you believed me when I told you what happened?"

Crowley shrugged, smirking. "Are you telling me that was a lie?"

"No! Of course not, sir!" Will said quickly. "I wouldn't-" he stopped and looked down.

"All jokes aside, we haven't gotten the full story from you yet, Will. I don't believe you're the kind of person who'd do something like this willingly, and I'm rarely wrong about things like that. I suppose it's a gift from my dad. I can tell you care about Halt quite a bit, and I don't think you ever wanted to hurt him, or anyone in the Corps. So, although the others might distrust you or dislike you, I'm staying impartial. As far as I'm concerned, until we can prove you wanted to betray us, I won't take sides."

Will opened his mouth, then shut it, not sure what to say.

"Get some rest, Will. I'll wake you if something happens."

Gratefully, the boy nodded. "Thank you, Crowley. For...giving me a chance."

"You're welcome." Crowley walked out and shut the door softly, leaving the room in total darkness. Usually Will would've been unable to go to sleep in the dark, but before he knew it, his eyes slipped close and he was fast asleep.

* * *

Will was shaken awake some interminable period of time later by Crowley. Olympus didn't have sunrise or sunset like the mortal world, so as Will looked past Crowley out the door, he couldn't tell a thing about the time.

"We think that Ferris is going to try a direct assault on Olympus itself," Crowley told him quietly. "We don't know his object. He could either head to the Hall of the Gods to destroy their thrones, or he could head straight back here to try and finish off any of the Rangers. He managed to capture one of the Rangers Halt visited, so we think that he might come here, knowing Halt is indisposed right now."

"How long have I been out?" Will asked, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He gave a quick glance to Halt, who was still fast asleep. Since Crowley had turned the lights on upon entering the room, he could see the son of Hades clearly. Halt's form seemed faint, like he was fading from the world.

"Almost a full day. Halt must've drained you quite a lot." Crowley followed Will's gaze to Halt's unconscious form. "Shadow-traveling can make one lose contact with reality. As exhausted as he already was from battling Ferris, the amount of energy he used traveling to thirty different states is more than any demigod should ever be able to handle. I'm surprised he didn't take more of your energy."

Will's eyes narrowed a little. When Crowley had first told him how Halt had managed to shadow-travel so many times, Will had been too tired to process it correctly. Although he still felt tired, his brain was functioning a little better and now he, ironically, almost felt betrayed. Couldn't Halt have at least asked his permission before he'd taken Will's energy like that? Will understood that Halt was obviously unhappy with Will's betrayal, but that still didn't excuse Halt from doing that.

"What do you want me to do?"

Crowley smiled grimly. "I want you to guard Halt. I'll send a few other Rangers here as well, so you won't be alone. We only have around fifty Rangers here right now- the rest haven't made it yet- so I can't spare too many here when the Hall of the Gods is a much bigger and harder to protect area. Ferris probably has many allies other than his undead, and undead are hard enough to kill when one isn't a child of Hades."

"Is Halt the only child of Hades in the Corps?"

Crowley nodded. "Although Stygian iron can be effective for anyone is wielded correctly, Hades children get the best results by far. Some children of Hecate can kill undead pretty well, too, but we only have three of them in the entire Corps and only two of them are currently here. This will be a difficult battle, Will. Although I trust you not to sabotage the Corps, I don't know whether I can trust you not to run when things get bad- which they will. Some Rangers might lose their lives. You might lose your life. Can I depend on you to be brave enough not to flee?"

Will didn't hesitate. "I won't abandon Halt, sir. I swear it on the River Styx."

Crowley managed a small smile at that. "You do your master proud. I have to go now. I'll send some Rangers your way, but if something unexpected happens before they get here, make sure you get Halt to safety. If we lose him, we'll lose one of our only chances to defeat Ferris."

Will nodded solemnly. He knew that the gods weren't allowed to fight Ferris- gods couldn't mess with mortal affairs, not even if a child of theirs attacked them. It was up to the Rangers to fight Ferris and his army.

Crowley exited soundlessly, leaving Will alone. The boy quickly checked at his belt to see if he still had his double knives, then looked around for his bow and quiver. At the ground next to Halt's bed rested the Ranger's own powerful longbow and quiver, but Will's was not next to it. After a few moments of searching, he found it on the other side of his own bed and slipped the quiver over his back, then restrung his bow.

After that, all there was left to do was wait. Will waited, as Halt had taught him, in the shadows as near Halt as he could get, arrow loosely nocked to his bowstring. After several minutes, three silent figures moved into the room. Caught by surprise, Will very nearly shot them, barely managing to stop himself in time. He stepped out into the light, revealing himself.

"I'm Will," he said by way of introduction, having no idea if he'd met any of the three before- all the faces of the Rangers he'd visited had blurred together eventually. "I'm Halt's apprentice."

"A first year?" One of the Rangers questioned. He had dark hair and eyes, the cruel glint in them one Will had come to associate with Ares.

"Yes."

"How are you going to be any use to us, then?" a second asked, looking annoyed. He was younger than most Rangers appeared to be- perhaps in his twenties- but Will couldn't tell whose godly parent he had.

"I...well..."

"Give the boy a break," the third Ranger commanded. He had one human leg and one metal; the metal seemed to be a mix of Stygian iron and celestial bronze. Will thought he recognized the man as a senior Ranger. "He's had a tough enough time of it already. We have a battle ahead of us; we don't have time for division. Will, since I don't know your parentage, what are your powers?"

Will gave him a grateful glance. "I'm a son of Apollo, sir."

"Do you have sonokinesis?" came the next question. "How about healing?"

"Uh...I can heal. I don't know what sonokinesis is though, sir. And..." Will looked to the ground self-consciously. "I can control light."

A shocked inhale. "This boy is crazy," the first Ranger said. "No demigod's ever been known to do that!"

"Zion, calm down," the third Ranger said coolly. "I doubt that Halt would've let Will entertain such thoughts if they weren't true. Will, perhaps a demonstration?"

Will slung his bow across his back and held out his hands. A flickering orb of light appeared between them, then vanished. Will staggered backwards, feeling drained.

"Well, we can't deny it now," the third said reasonably. "For whatever reason, Apollo has seen fit to grant Will with this power. It might be the only thing that defeats Ferris's skeletons if they come for Halt."

The other two nodded reluctantly, but before anything else could be said two more Rangers ran up. "The invasion has started," one said. "Ferris has broken the wards around Mount Olympus. He has an entire army."

The Ranger with the metal leg- a senior Ranger, Will guessed- frowned. "Skeletons?"

"Yes, but that's not all. He's made allies with Laistrygonian giants and Empousai. He has at least a few dozen of each."

Will wasn't sure what Empousai or Laistrygonian giants were, but he guessed they weren't good. "How many skeletons?" he asked, voice sounding very small.

"Hundreds."

All the Rangers exchanged glances. Instead of the terror Will felt they seemed calm and composed, like this was just an ordinary day for them. "We must protect Halt at all costs," the Ranger with the metal leg said. Another six Rangers swept in and were hastily brought up to-date with what had happened. "We'll start a few yards from the medbay, in camouflage. We want to keep them as far away from Halt as possible for as long as we can. Will, you'll stay in the medbay the entire time. If an enemy should manage to slip through, it'll be your job to deal with it."

Will nodded, although inside he felt like screaming. "Yes, sir."

"It's Berrigan, actually. If you need help, calling 'sir' won't do anything. If I can't hear you, call Geldon or Lei." He motioned to each of the men in turn. "Now let's move out and get into position. Our enemy will be coming shortly."

In silence, the Rangers moved out of the medbay and into position. Within a minute Will could not make out a single one of them, so perfect were their hiding places. Will looked around at the empty room and sighed. He had no idea how he, a first year apprentice, would be able to protect Halt, but he had no other choice. He supposed that it wasn't about what he could do, it was about what happened if he didn't.

Silent minutes passed. The sound of fighting grew gradually nearer and nearer, until finally as Will looked out the door from his own hiding place, he saw Rangers diving out of their camouflage on top of skeletons and empousai- at least, that's what Will assumed they were. Behind them loomed huge, eight-foot-tall creatures Will guessed must be the giants. Will gripped his bow tighter, praying he wouldn't have to fight any of them.

For awhile, the Rangers actually managed to hold back the hordes of monsters. Several more Rangers had joined in, making their force around fifteen strong. Every single Ranger was a power unto himself; Will wondered at the power each displayed. None had the unstoppable power and cold efficiency of Halt, but all were stronger than any demigod you'd find at Camp Half-Blood.

But finally a single skeleton managed to sneak behind two Rangers fighting back-to-back and make its way into the medbay. Will stiffened as it entered and seemed to look around before making its way straight towards Halt.

With shaking hands, Will drew back his bow and fired. The arrow flew straight and true, but Will had forgotten one crucial thing: skeletons weren't living. The arrow lodged itself inside the creature's ribs and it continued on, undeterred. Will stepped out from the shadows between it and Halt, slinging his bow back over his shoulder. Berrigan had seemed to think his photokinesis could harm the skeletons- and Will didn't want to take the chance that his Stygian iron knives wouldn't work- so Will formed a ball of light between his hands. The skeleton automatically inched back at the sight.

Will had never practiced actually throwing these balls of light- he'd had a hard enough time just keeping his light steady and balanced. So Will stepped forward as close to the thing as he dared before he let loose, muttering a prayer to Apollo that the projectile would hit.

Apollo must've been listening, for the light orb hit the skeleton squarely. Even as the light made contact, the skeleton turned into dust.

Will heaved a breath of relief and faded back into the shadows. He felt noticeably more tired despite hardly using any power; godly powers drained one quite a lot. It made Halt's fight with Ferris even more impressive.

Gradually more and more skeletons infiltrated the Rangers' defense and made it into the medbay. Will managed to stop every single one, but he was unused to using his powers so much and tired quickly. Eventually the Rangers fell back to guard the medbay entrance more closely, a young Ranger joining up with Will. Their enemies still came on, a never-ending wave of giants, skeletons, and empousai. After a while Will found himself wondering if they'd ever stop.

The Rangers killed dozens of monsters, but Ferris's army seemed unlimited. They were getting overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of monsters, and Will knew they couldn't count on receiving any reinforcements. But as Will was sure they would finally be overrun, every monster suddenly froze. As if someone were issuing orders to them all at once, they turned and retreated, allowing the Rangers to score colossal damage against them as they ran.

But before anyone could even think to voice their renewed hope a new figure appeared, walking towards them at a leisurely pace. Will's breath caught in his throat as he recognized it.

Ferris.

* * *

"Ferris," Will said, unable to prevent his voice from shaking. How could they possibly protect Halt with Ferris here now? Shadow-traveling, extremely powerful son of Hades Ferris?

Ferris continued walking in silence, apparently not feeling like exchanging pleasantries. Several of the younger Rangers tried to stop him but he threw them away with a huge golden pillar he'd taken control of. Berrigan and several of the senior Rangers stepped in front of the door, their bodies barring the entrance. Inside, Will exchanged a nervous glance with the young Ranger next to him. Ferris somehow seemed younger, stronger, even more of a threat than previously.

"Step aside," Ferris commanded imperiously. Despite the fact that he now looked Halt's age, he suddenly looked so very different from his brother. Ferris walked with an arrogant, confident swagger; Halt walked with a quiet surety that had no need to be expressed outwardly. Ferris's expression was one of egotistical satisfaction, the face of one who thought himself above everyone else, whereas Halt had never worn such an expression in his life. Halt was quiet but self-assured; never insecure, never overly arrogant. Ferris was maniacal and pompous.

Berrigan met Ferris's eyes steadily. "No, Ferris."

The son of Hades's eyes flashed with recognition, then hatred. "Berrigan," he hissed. "I hoped I'd never see your face again. What, was taking your leg off not enough? Have you come back for the second one, too?"

Despite the enormity of what Ferris had just confessed to having done, there was no anger in Berrigan's countenance. He remained just as level and calm as before. "You will not get past us, even if you have to take every limb I have."

"Such loyalty," Ferris sneered. He tried to step past but Berrigan snapped his fingers and a ball of fire appeared in his palm. "My brother does not deserve it."

Berrigan said nothing, but the flames in his hands flickered higher.

Seeing he wouldn't be successful in getting Berrigan to lose his temper, Ferris turned instead to the other two Rangers guarding the entrance. "Geldon, Lei, surely you can see that your coworker isn't worth all this? Would you die just to prolong the death of one of your fellow members?"

Both Rangers remained silent.

Now Ferris was getting frustrated. Not only had he failed to affect Berrigan in any way, he wasn't getting through to the other senior Rangers, either. His eyes flicked past them and met with Will's: a slow smile spread across his face. He knew how to unsettle them now. "I have to say," he said after a pause,"I'm a little surprised you wouldn't betray Halt. After all, his own apprentice seemed to have no trouble doing it."

Will stiffened. Every Ranger close enough to have heard instantly swung their heads to Will in disbelief. Somehow, out of all the Rangers that Crowley had sent, not one had already known Will's secret.

"Isn't that right, Will?"

"Will, my boy," Berrigan said slowly, fixing his gaze back on Ferris in case the son of Hades should try something, "What's he talking about?"

"He betrayed you all," Ferris said silkily. "I know everything about you and your order now, all because of this boy. Really, I'd almost say he's worse than I; needed no prompting to backstab the very mentor who'd given him all he has now."

"That's not true!" Will burst out. His palms glowed for a second, before he regained control. "You threatened to _kill-"_

"Lies, lies, lies," Ferris sang, interrupting Will before he could finish. The man turned back to the Rangers. "You see? Shouldn't he be the real enemy here? Shouldn't he be the one you're really-"

"No." Berrigan's tone was level. The fire he held in his hands flickered higher than ever. "Whatever Will's crime was, that is not important now. You betrayed the entire human race when you ran to Kronos to become his vessel, all because Hades showed Halt more favor than you."

"Do you have any _idea_ what it's like to always be second-best?" Ferris hissed. "To always be the 'other one,' to never be accepted and _loved_ like Halt?"

"I know more than you think," Berrigan replied. "No matter how troubled your family life was, however, it gives you no excuse to do what you did. You endured Achilles's curse in order to become strong enough to become Kronos's vessel. Then Halt had to do the same in order to contest you! And in the end, even after seeing everything you had done, you still did not surrender. Halt had to find your Achilles's heel himself in order to end you."

Ferris tried to respond, but Berrigan wasn't finished yet. "If anyone should be killed twice for their crimes, it is you, Ferris. You have betrayed not just the entire human race, but your own brother and your best friends." Berrigan's voice faltered for a brief moment; Will wondered how he was keeping so composed. "You are not the Ferris I once knew. You are not my friend, nor will I ally with you to kill an apprentice from my own Corps. And once more: I will not step aside. If you want entry, you must kill all three of us. Are you strong enough to do that, Ferris?"

Ferris reddened in rage, but even he had no answer to Berrigan's direct challenge. Like everyone else, he knew he could most likely have taken on any of the Rangers there and won, perhaps even one of the senior Rangers. But two of them? Or three? Rangers were not a folk to mess with, and Ferris knew that well. He had committed a grave error in sending away his army. He reached now for the telepathic link between he and his skeletons, but the empousai and giants were out of reach for the moment.

Then, all of a sudden, Ferris disappeared. Will stared at the spot he'd been last in confusion, only realizing too late that Ferris hadn't disappeared; he'd merely faded into shadow.

Ferris reappeared in the shadows next to Halt's unconscious form, and drew his obsidian sword.


	15. Chapter 15

"NO!" Will didn't give time to think through what he was about to do. He simply moved, dropping his bow and leaping across the room, over a chair, over Halt's bed. In one last desperate surge of strength, Will summoned every ounce of light inside him and threw it at Ferris as the two collided.

Something burning cold hit Will's abdomen but he barely registered it. His vision had tunneled down only to Ferris, to the man who'd tried to kill Will's master and mentor and perhaps, if things were different, his friend. Then there was confusion. Will had no idea what was up and what was down; what was left and what was right. There was just Ferris, recovering from the unexpected attack, trying to throw Will off, trying to kill Halt. Will desperately clung to Ferris, not quite sure what he was doing except that _Ferris would not hurt Halt._ The burning increased and Will cried out but refused to let go.

They wrestled for what felt like eons, each equally determined not to let the other win. But finally Ferris wrested his sword arm free and drew the weapon back, preparing to throw-

 _"Πέτρος!"_

Ferris froze.

No...that wasn't right. He didn't freeze.

Beginning at his chest, Ferris's clothing and skin slowly turned grey, and as the grey spread, Ferris's movement diminished. The sword Ferris had just released from his fingertips clattered to the ground, hitting Ferris's leg with a clang. Will stared, transfixed, and finally as Ferris fell forward on his face and landed not with a soft thud but with a similar clang, Will understood.

Ferris had been turned to stone.

He didn't know how long he sat there, mind struggling to comprehend what had just happened, trying to understand _how._ Had it been Halt, magically waking? Will turned to look, but Halt was just as asleep as ever. Had it been one of the other Rangers, then? Will had thought he'd heard something...

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember what had been said. He knew it had been ancient Greek: furthermore, that it had somehow meant _stone._ But even though Will _had_ known the word for stone, he found he couldn't recall it anymore.

Voices swirled around him, and Will strained to understand them. Everything he saw, everything he heard, everything he felt was grey. Grey like Ferris. Hands, arms wrapped around him and pulled him up. The burning in his torso turned knife-sharp, turned stone cold. Still Will felt numb, felt grey. Had _he_ done that? Had he turned Ferris into stone?

"...ll? Will?"

He tried to respond, but his body felt leaden.

"...safe..."

"...alright."

He blinked. Slowly turned his head. He was surrounded by people. Groups of people were bad; groups meant gangs, or bullies. Again, he tried to move, this time to get away, but a wave of cold swept through him and he shuddered. The grey was all-encompassing now, and his eyes were flickering shut. Vaguely, something in the back of his mind warned him something was wrong. He'd been injured. Vaguely, the people around Will echoed it.

"Don't...sleep-"

"...awake, Will-"

"Will-"

Arms wrapped around him again and lifted him, setting him down on something soft. "Eat," a voice told him and Will forced himself to take what was offered, shining golden in the grey world. But it tasted grey, too- tasted like sawdust.

"What happened?" he mumbled.

"You were stabbed, Will," the voice said. It said more, but the sounds faded away and Will didn't hear the rest.

"'M...cold. R'ly...cold."

"That's the Stygian iron. Sol's gonna come heal you soon, okay? He's on his way. Just stay awake until then."

Will's eyes flickered shut. Then grey turned red and the voice said, "Stay awake, Will!" Will weakly moved one arm to his side where the red was, watched as the red trickled down, down, down, turning everything in its path red, too.

Then there was nothing but grey, and red whenever Will tried to sleep. It lasted for such a long time Will thought it might be forever, but then a new voice came, and with it came color and sound and light. The new energy was the burning heat of the sun at midday, the pain of light hitting your eyes after too long in the dark. It hurt- terribly. Will cried out in agony, but it kept coming, coming, turning grey to yellow and blue and green, melting the ice inside Will's chest.

Then it stopped, and the new energy inside Will allowed him to sit up once more. Sol and Berrigan were standing beside his bed, watching. Will looked first for Ferris's body, then down at his own side, examining the ripped fabric where underneath resided a long, ugly scab.

"Stygian iron wounds are very hard to heal," Sol told him as Will looked back up to meet his half-brother's eyes. "It took much energy to cleanse you from its lasting effects, and I had already spent much of my energy in the battle."

Will nodded slowly. He looked around again and finally asked, "What happened to Ferris?"

"He's been petrified," Berrigan replied. Even though Will had expected as much, it still came as a shock to hear it out loud. "You turned him to stone with a curse."

"Will he be like that...forever?"

Berrigan shook his head. "Only gods have that power. The curse'll probably fade in a couple hours, maybe as many as six if you're lucky."

The boy nodded again, lapsing into silence. Sol had begun to walk away when Will spoke again. "Is Halt going to be alright?"

Sol turned back around and dipped his head. "He slipped into a shadow coma to keep himself alive while his body replenishes its energy. He very nearly killed himself fighting Ferris two days ago and then shadow-traveling across America. However, he'll pull through. I wouldn't be surprised if he wakes up later today."

"Today?" Will questioned, staring out at Olympus. "What day is it?"

"It's 1:30 in the morning on Thursday, January 10th."

"Thursday?" Will asked, calculating. The Gathering had started on New Year's Day, a Tuesday, and they'd all left to go back home on Saturday the sixth. The eighth, a Monday, was when Halt had fought Ferris, then they'd traveled all through the night to get to Olympus by Tuesday morning. Halt and Will had shadow-traveled all throughout Tuesday, returning back to Olympus late that night, then Will and Halt had both collapsed. Crowley had told Will he'd been out for nearly a day, which put that at late Wednesday night, so the battle must've lasted several hours at least.

"Did we win?" Will asked next, then promptly regretted it. Of course they had, if Sol and Berrigan had the leisure to be standing there watching him. Sol granted him a look that echoed that thought. "So, if he's petrified, where's Ferris?"

"Crowley and the rest of the Corps took him into custody, not wishing to risk the curse wearing off before we had secured him. We will hold the official trial once Halt wakes up. Until then, get some rest." Sol and Berrigan started to walk away, but then Sol paused and turned back once more. "And, Will...I am sorry for not allowing you to justify yourself to us that night. I will see to it that you are given a fair trial and that Ferris is punished duly for what he did to you."

Stunned, Will could only stare at his half-sibling for a few seconds. "Thank you, sir," he said finally.

"Sir is a little formal, do you not think? Sol will do." The Ranger turned around, and Will thought he saw a smile on his face. "You did well, Will. Now go to sleep."

Will nodded sleepily and turned onto his uninjured side. He was asleep even before Sol had closed the door behind him.

"Ferris O'Carrick, son of Hades, step forward."

Ferris did not move of his own accord; rather, Berrigan and Bartell shoved him forward. The son of Hades was tightly bound and blindfolded, as well as partially sedated in order that he not shadow-travel away from Olympus- the wards around had not been fully repaired yet.

"You have been charged with two counts of treason," Zeus thundered. "The first, for going to the Titan Lord Kronos and becoming his vessel. The second for plotting to overthrow the Ranger Corps and, through that, the continent. What do you have to say in your defense?"

Ferris snarled a mouthful of curses. As he showed no sign of stopping after several seconds, Zeus lost his patience. "Enough! You are sentenced to eternal imprisonment in Tartarus, effective immediately."

Will gasped as Ferris was hauled away by the Rangers and brought straight to Hades, who regarded him with a sorrowful look and placed one massive hand on his son's shoulder. The next second, Ferris was gone. Will stared at the spot the man had occupied in horror. Was his own trial to go that swiftly?

"Will, son of Apollo, step forward."

Will was not bound as Ferris had been, and so stepped forward by himself. His heart was beating so rapidly he wondered if it'd be able to keep such a pace for very long. Will looked around, desperate for a friendly face, and locked eyes with Gilan. Gilan gave him a tiny little smile, but it was sad, like he already knew the outcome of the trial. Will hastily dragged his eyes away from Gilan and looked towards Zeus. On the way there, his gaze passed over a young girl tending the hearth- the same girl who'd been there last time. After a moment's hesitation, Will realized it must be Hestia, goddess of the hearth. She smiled reassuringly at him.

"You are charged with one count of treason for betraying the Ranger Corps and allying with Ferris O'Carrick. What do you have to say in your defense?"

Will stared at the mighty thunder god, and his mind blanked. Everything he'd planned out, every defense he'd wanted to make, suddenly flew out of his head. Will looked at Hestia again, but her smile was gone now. She seemed to be waiting for him to say something, as indeed was everyone in the massive hall.

"I...uh...I," Will said eloquently. He felt heat flush to his cheeks and ducked his head, wishing Zeus would kill him right then and there and spare all the pomp and ceremony.

"If I may, Lord Zeus," a quiet voice cut in. Will turned his head in surprise to see a paler than usual Halt looking straight at Zeus. It had now been two days after the Battle of Olympus, as it had come to be called; Halt had only woken up a few hours previously. He must've still been exhausted, but other than the paleness hid it very well.

"What is it you wish to say, Halt O'Carrick?"

"Will's betrayal is said to be against the gods, is it not, my lord?"

"It is."

"Will has stated that he did not even know Ferris's true identity until very recently- right after Will's own betrayal was made known, in fact. The reason it is stated as against the gods is because of Ferris's attack on Olympus, correct?"

Zeus nodded confirmation.

"Then I would question the charge of Will's betrayal going against the gods. If he did not know who Ferris was or what he planned to do," Halt said reasonably, "does it still count as such?"

There was a low murmur from the rest of the gods and the Rangers. Athena nodded grudging submission to Halt's reasoning, and many of the Rangers seemed relieved at where the trial seemed to be going. After all, no one in that hall- except perhaps Ares- wished to see another death, especially not of one so young.

"He still assisted Ferris in gathering intel on the Ranger Corps," Zeus pointed out, and Halt nodded a few times.

"Yes, my lord, no one's contesting that. However, I question that this trial should be held in this hall in front of the gods, when the charges of the person being tried are not against the gods."

"What are you suggesting?"

Halt took a deep breath. "I am suggesting, my lord, that you allow the Ranger Corps to preside over Will's trial in your stead."

For a moment there was nothing but silence. Then Zeus spoke. "You would dare usurp my-"

"I mean no offense, of course," Halt said quickly, bowing his head slightly. "I do not doubt your power or your authority, nor am I attempting to undermine it in any way. I am simply trying to take another burdensome trial off your shoulders. I'm sure you have much better things to do than preside over this trial, after all."

From her throne next to Zeus, Hera leaned over and whispered something into Zeus's ear. He scowled, then sighed. "Very well. Ranger Commandant Crowley Meratyn, son of Hermes, I hereby delegate the authority to preside over the trial of Will, son of Apollo, to you."

Crowley looked stunned. He gave an annoyed, that-was-extremely-reckless, glare to Halt, then turned back to Zeus and bowed deeply. "Thank you, Lord Zeus." He turned around and made the hand signal to follow him. All the Rangers moved as one with their Commandant- all except Will, who followed dead last.

As he left, he turned around to look at the gods once more. His eyes met with Hestia's, the warm flame inside her eyes warming Will's chest. A soft whisper flowed through him, _do not fear, Will. Your light will not be extinguished yet._

Will turned away and followed the Rangers out.

"Will, son of Apollo. You are charged with betrayal of the Ranger Corps. What have you to say in defense?"

Instead of Zeus, it was now Crowley presiding over the trial, and instead of the Olympians, there were only senior Rangers. However, that made it no less nerve-wracking for Will. Despite Hestia's promise that he wouldn't be executed, Will knew there were worse things than death. He could be kicked out of the Corps. He could be driven out from all society, forced to live alone for the remainder of his days. He could be flayed and beaten, tortured until the Rangers felt they'd paid back all the injury he had done them.

Will hesitated. A small part of him insisted that, no matter the circumstances, he had still betrayed them. He had no excuse. A much larger part protested that he'd been under duress.

"When Ferris first asked me to do this," he started lowly, timidly, "it was after the Rangers had come to Camp Half-Blood- right before I was apprenticed. Ferris always spoke of the Corps with hatred, but Halt was the one that hatred centered on. I used to always wonder what Halt could've possibly done to inspire that kind of hatred..." Will looked down. "But Ferris is simply insane. I see now that Ferris was the one who did all the wrong."

Will took a deep breath. No one seemed to want to interrupt him so he kept going. "Ferris had told me from the start never to have contact with a Ranger. Never to speak to one, or anything. The very first day you came, I messed up. A Ranger saved me from, um, a difficult situation, and I ended up talking to him. Ferris was furious. He called off our friendship, told me he never wanted to see me again." Will smiled a little sheepishly. "He looked around seventeen, back then. Anyway, Ferris told me that the only way to win back his friendship was to ask to be apprenticed to Halt, and work with Ferris towards the destruction of the entire Corps."

Will looked around. Gilan, who'd elbowed his way into the trial despite not being a senior Ranger, looked shocked. Many of the other Rangers seemed angry or disbelieving, thinking that Will had done this all because he hadn't wanted to lose a buddy.

"I refused," Will said clearly, and couldn't help but feel a little smug as the Rangers' expressions abruptly changed. "I told him I wouldn't ever do something like that. He said..."

 _Nausea. That was what Will felt most clearly: nausea at the thought of betraying someone who would be willingly mentoring him. Nausea at the knowledge Ferris had betrayed him just as certainly as that._

"He said he'd kill me."

Shocked inhales. Sol was standing behind Will, using his lie-detecting powers in order to ensure Will was completely honest. So every single Ranger knew that what Will had just said was complete, unabridged truth.

"I would've been fine with that," Will said quickly, his eyes finding Halt's pleadingly. "I would've rather died than do something like that. Please believe me. But then..."

 _Cold. He felt cold and dark, so dark. What had he gotten himself into? Why had one of the only people to ever befriend him done so only to betray him like this? To offer others' lives in front of Will like poker chips?_

Tears came to Will's eyes and despite how hard he tried to suppress them, his eyes filled and overflowed, tears trickling down his cheeks. "He threatened others, as well. He told me he'd kill three of my friends if I refused. He'd kill them slowly and painfully. And they- they didn't deserve th-that." Will choked down a sob and paused for a few moments to regain control of himself. "They didn't deserve to be dragged into that, and they didn't deserve to be killed because they were my friends," he said quietly. "So, I..."

 _Horror-filled eyes as he stared at Ferris in disbelief. "Y-You're not Ferris. You can't be. He wouldn't- he wouldn't do this." The awful, awful knowledge that the boy Will had called friend was a lie. That Will had been tricked from the start and he had fallen for it. Oh, how he had fallen for it._

"I tried to persuade him, but...I knew it wouldn't work. He was manic, and all he wanted was to kill the Rangers, and through them, Halt. He didn't care about anything but that. He would kill anyone, do anything, if it meant the destruction of the Corps. And I...I wouldn't let Alyss, George, and Jenny be killed by him. Please," Will said desperately, staring around at the Rangers, "I never wanted any of this to happen! I agreed just so people wouldn't get killed because of me. I didn't know it'd happen anyway. I didn't want to betray you. I didn't want to tell him anything I told him, and I didn't want anyone to...to..." Will put his head in his hands and bit his lip harshly, willing himself not to cry.

"Crowley," Berrigan said softly after a few minutes. "What is the verdict?"

"We must take a vote," the Commandant said heavily, his gaze resting sadly on the boy a few feet in front of him. "If you think him not guilty, raise one hand."

Over half the room raised their hands. Will looked around, but then he saw Halt and his heart felt like it had been ripped out of his chest.

Halt's arm was lowered.

"If you think Will guilty," Crowley continued, his eyes following Will's stricken expression to Halt, "raise one hand."

And again, Halt's arm never moved. His eyes were lowered, his expression focused but unreadable.

"We have a majority. Will, you have been charged not guilty."


	16. Chapter 16

This time, the tears that sprang to Will's eyes were relieved. He smiled and choked out something that could've been a laugh or a sob. He wasn't to die. He wasn't to suffer for years as a slave or endure torture via Ranger.

But then Halt raised his head and said quietly, "Is he not to receive any punishment?"

"Halt," Crowley said equally softly, reproof evident in his tone. "Hasn't he been through enough already?"

Halt met his friend's gaze levelly. Will bit his lip. In the corner of his vision he saw Sol's face soften in sympathy, knowing exactly what was going through Will's head at that moment. "He could've chosen to tell me or another Ranger at any point in time. Why didn't he?"

"I wanted to!" Will burst out. "I'd just met you, how was I to know I could trust you? How-" he broke off abruptly as Halt turned an unsmiling gaze to him.

"This is your fault," Halt said in a quiet, dangerous tone. "If you had simply talked to one of us, all this could've been avoided. Lives could've been saved, but because of the foolish choices of this boy, they weren't. He should be punished for what he's done."

"What do you suggest?" Crowley asked carefully. All the Rangers near Halt had backed away; even Will, several feet away, could feel the icy air emanating from Halt.

Halt didn't hesitate. "He is to assist with the rebuilding of Mount Olympus. He is to personally inform the immediate family of all the Rangers who lost their lives. And he is to apologize to the Corps as a whole."

"Some of the Corps do not even know of this in the first place," Crowley protested. "There is no need to inform them now that the danger has passed."

Halt glared. "Then he must apologize to everyone who is aware."

Crowley glanced at Will almost apologetically. Will understood why: not only had Will had his energy drained by Halt earlier that week without his consent, Will had still chosen to get stabbed by Ferris in order to save Halt's life. Yet the Ranger still had not forgiven him.

Will smiled a little at Crowley and shrugged, trying to communicate that it was alright. He had wanted to help rebuild Olympus anyway without being told, and he understood Halt's reasoning behind the rest of his punishment. The only reason it hurt was that Halt had said it so harshly, that Halt had told Will the Rangers's deaths were Will's fault, that Halt had refused to forgive him.

As Will walked stepped out of the building the trial had been held in, he felt anger rising inside him. Halt was acting unfair. Will had learned not to trust after the orphanage years ago, and right when he'd trusted again for the third time, Ferris had betrayed him, but not before poisoning his mind against Halt. How could anyone possibly have expected Will to trust the grim and forbidding Halt that much?

On top of that, Will had now saved Halt's life not once, but _twice._ And he'd acted as a power source in order for Halt not to die another time after that. What more could Halt possibly expect from him? Will was barely trained, both as a Ranger and as a son of Apollo. He wasn't powerful or strong and his trust had been broken too many times.

Will let out a sound somewhere between a yell and a roar and slammed his fists into a nearby wall. A wall of light burst from the place his hands had struck and the wall shivered, but thankfully stayed put. A sob followed close behind the roar, cutting itself roughly off as near-silent footsteps approached.

"Aren't you supposed to be rebuilding Olympus, not tearing it down?" a familiar voice asked from behind him.

Will spun around, relief softening his expression as he beheld Gilan. "Sorry, Gilan. I just got...angry, I guess. I know I've done wrong and I _know_ I've cost people their lives, but that doesn't mean any of this is easy. Halt hates me, half the Corps hate me, the gods hate me...just because I didn't want my friends to die." Will wrapped his arms around himself, keeping in another sob. "I've lost my place in the Corps, I've lost my fa- friends..." Will let out a short, abrupt laugh in an effort to lighten the mood and gestured to his torso. "I even got stabbed for my effort."

The Stygian iron of Ferris's sword had made healing especially difficult for Will, even despite Sol's cleansing of the wound the day of the battle. Now, despite having eaten ambrosia (as little as he could get away with; he hated the taste) and resting for two days, it was still extremely sore and painful to the touch.

"Hang on," Gilan said. "Who said you're not in the Corps anymore?"

"Well, no one really," Will said, "but it's obvious, isn't it? My master hates me. He obviously isn't going to forgive me, so I can't expect him to teach me. And I doubt he'd let anyone else teach me, either. He probably wants to be rid of me as soon as possible."

Gilan glared at him. "Will, even if that _were_ true- which it's not- Halt isn't the leader of the Corps. He has influence, yes, but Crowley is the Commandant and Apollo the actual leader. Crowley's already said he wants to give you a second chance, and you saw Apollo- he's fine with it. If Halt refuses to take you back, Crowley and I'll take you on myself."

Will nodded. They lapsed into silence for a few minutes, then Will finally said quietly, "Why won't he forgive me? I've asked him to and all he said is 'we'll see.' I almost died for him, but he still can't look at me with anything other than hatred and distrust."

Gilan sighed heavily. "That's Halt for you. He's unfailingly loyal and he can't tolerate anyone or anything that's not- even if they have good reasons," Gilan tacked on hastily. "I guess it's the child of Hades thing."

Will stared at him for a few seconds. "What?"

"Oh...have you not heard of fatal flaws?" Will continued to stare at him uncomprehendingly. "Basically, it's a character flaw or just plain character trait that, according to the Fates and to prophecies, could cause one's downfall. Hades children hold grudges for lifetimes sometimes. That's their fatal flaw. It's gotten Halt into trouble before, I hear, so hopefully he'll learn his lesson this time."

"Does everyone have one?" Will asked next.

"Generally, all demigods do and it's usually related to their parentage. Poseidon kids are so loyal to their friends they'll let the whole rest of the world burn in order to save the people they love. Athena kids are generally so prideful, they think they can do anything. Aphrodite kids, unsurprisingly, are vain."

"What about me?"

Gilan shrugged. "Could be anything. Hubris- great pride- is the most common, though."

"So you're saying...Halt won't forgive me for a lifetime?" Will's voice was so small and sad Gilan's heart ached a little at what his friend must be going through.

"That's an extreme case. Halt nearly died the last time he held a grudge, so I'm sure he's learned. Just keep trying, and he'll come around eventually."

Will sat down on the ground and pulled his knees to his chest, looking up at Gilan. "I'm so...I want to be mad at him," he said quietly. "I want to be mad that he's being so unfair. I want to hate him like he hates me. But I realized that, no matter how hard I try, the only one I'm mad at is myself. The only one I _hate_ is myself."

Gilan sat down next to Will, eyes fixed on his friend.

"Why was I so _stupid?"_ the boy asked no one in particular, eyes staring dimly at the perfectly green grass of Olympus. "Why did I ever think I could have a friend I could trust? Every time I trusted it ended badly, and Ferris was no different. If I hadn't trusted him, none of this ever would've happened."

"Hey, not everything that's happened is a bad thing," Gilan said. "You met me and Crowley and Halt. And I know he's being a bit difficult right now, but he does still care about you."

"He doesn't seem like it," Will said a trifle bitterly.

Gilan hesitated for a moment. "Before Ferris's trial, Halt took Crowley, Sol, and me aside and told me he'd talked to Hades, and that he'd said Zeus had already declared both you and Ferris as guilty. You were both to be sent to Tartarus- the trial was just a formality, since Zeus didn't want to deal with the potential repercussions of keeping you around. Halt knew that if he wanted to prevent that from happening to you, he'd have to do something about it. He saved your life when he asked for the trial to be delegated to the Rangers. He doesn't want you dead, Will. He's just struggling with everything that's happened recently, and it's making him disagreeable. He's never been good at showing his emotions, after all."

Will sighed. He still looked miserable, but Gilan was relieved to see he looked slightly less so. "I guess I just want...want everything to go the way it was before. Not- not with Ferris, of course," he added hastily, glancing at Gilan, "but before everything went to Hades, it was actually nice. I actually thought I belonged somewhere, for once. I thought...I thought I had a home." The last sentence was so quiet Gilan wondered if Will had even meant to say it. "I guess it shouldn't have been surprising when it ended up getting ripped away from me."

"You still have a home here in the Corps," Gilan insisted softly, matching Will's volume. "I've already forgiven you for what you did, and everyone else will eventually, too. You still belong here, Will. Halt's gonna forgive you one day and you'll go back to being his apprentice. Although I still think you should accept Crowley's offer," he finished, scowling dramatically. "Crowley's only had one apprentice, but it's well known that his apprentices aren't forced to do the entirety of the household chores by themselves every day."

Will thought about it for a moment. He imagined waking up every day to Crowley's cheer, playing pranks with a fully supportive master, sharing the chores between the two of them. He imagined being taught by the Commandant- would he be patient? Or would he be impatient and demanding, like Halt? He imagined being in New York City, in Olympus, instead of Halt's humble cabin in the woods. And he had to admit, it was tempting. It was very tempting, especially when even thinking about Halt made his chest hurt.

But...there was something about training with _Halt_ that was different than with any other Ranger. There was something about being continually pushed out of his comfort zone, constantly forced to do more than he could comfortably do, that was so very _Halt._ There was something soothing and calming about Halt's quiet ways, how the two of them didn't need words to communicate. Even though he was irritable and hot-tempered, even though Will had yet to see him genuinely smile, even if he hated Will for what he'd done, Halt was Halt. Will cared for his master. And that was what made this all the more painful.

If Halt truly cared for Will, shouldn't he have forgiven Will by now?

"I'll think about it," Will said lowly, defeat in his slumped shoulders, in his tone. "If Halt doesn't come around soon, I may have no other choice."

* * *

It was several days later that Gilan walked into Crowley's office and said, "Crowley, we need to talk about Halt."

The Ranger Commandant scarcely looked up from his desk as Gilan silently shut the door behind him and sat down. "What about him?"

"You know what," Gilan said heatedly, then backed off a little as Crowley looked up and raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, Crowley. But someone needs to talk to Halt, or do _something._ It's tearing Will apart."

"I imagine Halt thinks it's another part of Will's punishment."

"I don't care what Halt thinks!" Gilan burst out. "To Hades with what he _thinks!_ Hades children are known for holding grudges, and Halt's grudge is destroying Will!"

Crowley regarded Gilan carefully from across the desk. The young Ranger was usually mild-mannered and carefree; for Gilan to react in such a way meant the matter was more serious than the Commandant had thought. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that Halt not only refused to forgive Will even after Will _asked_ him to, twice now, he also told Will it was his fault the Rangers had died! Will's not even sixteen yet; how is he supposed to deal with all that guilt? He thinks his own mentor hates him for something he's tried to make amends for on several occasions now. No one, especially not a boy, should have to deal with all this."

The Commandant pursed his lips, thinking. If what Gilan said was true, then they did indeed need to appeal to Halt about his actions. Crowley rather liked Will despite his actions with Ferris; he was sunny, personable, and very bright. Halt's fatal flaw had ended badly for him before, and Crowley didn't want it to end with a broken Will this time around. After all, Will was still a member of his Corps, and Rangers protected their own.

"Very well," he said. "We'll talk to Halt about this. In fact, let's do it now. I need a break from the paperwork anyway." He stood up, shoving his papers aside. and soundlessly moved towards the door. Gilan followed. Together, the pair made their way to the guest rooms that had been built for any Ranger who needed to stay at Olympus overnight. The senior Rangers who resided in that section of the building turned at the slight sound of the door, and as Crowley and Gilan stepped inside solemnly, all eyes instantly went to Halt.

"Halt, my friend," Crowley said as evenly as he could, "We'd like to discuss one of the Texas Rangers with you."

All Rangers present knew that was a lie. If Crowley wanted to discuss something with Halt, he wouldn't bring Gilan with him. However, they were all people Crowley trusted with his life, and all of them knew better than to pry. They turned away, leaving Halt to step through the doorway and follow Gilan and Crowley out.

"Is this about Will?" he asked shortly once they'd gotten to a spot deemed secret enough to hold the conversation.

By this point, the other two men were used enough to Halt that the question didn't surprise them at all. Of course he'd have figured it out in the minute it had taken them to get this far.

"As a matter of fact, it is." Crowley crossed his arms. "Have you seen Will lately?"

Halt shrugged. "Other than the trial, no. He's staying in the medbay, isn't he? Got stabbed or something."

The deliberate indifference in Halt's tone made Gilan bristle. Crowley put a hand on his shoulder in warning. Although his friend's tone irritated him as well, he understood that that was exactly Halt's intent.

"That's hardly an excuse not to have seen him," the Commandant said, still as calmly as he could manage. "If anything, shouldn't you be checking to make sure he's okay?"

"Sol's there. He wouldn't let Will die of a little stab wound."

"A stab wound Will got because of you!" Gilan broke in hotly, glaring at his former mentor. "He could've died from that 'little stab wound' he got because of you!"

Halt's eyes narrowed and he took the slightest step forward, but before he could move fully into Gilan's space he paused, surprise flickering in his dark eyes as the full meaning of Gilan's words hit him. "'Because of me'?" he asked.

"According to at least ten Rangers, Ferris shadow-traveled into the medbay and was about to kill you while you were unconscious," Crowley explained, stepping between master and apprentice in an attempt to diffuse the tension. "Will tackled him before his sword hit you, but it cut Will up pretty badly."

"And he's not immune to Stygian iron's effects." Halt sighed. He then muttered something about idiotic apprentices and scowled, looking back up. "How in the world did Will survive? Ferris should've been able to kill him in seconds, even after being taken by surprise like that."

Crowley and Gilan exchanged glances. "We're...actually not sure. No one is. Apparently Will shouted a phrase in Ancient Greek which mysteriously no one remembers, and it turned Ferris into stone."

"What?" Halt asked. "That's impossible. There's no curse that can turn people to stone."

"Apparently, there is now. It didn't seem to effect either person that much, though, thankfully. Ferris turned back within a few hours and Will only passed out for a day and a half. He's still recovering, though. That wound is probably going to bother him for quite a while."

After a minute or so, Halt spoke again. "Is that all? I'm assuming you came here to do more than just update me on his physical state."

Crowley took a deep breath and sent a silent prayer to Hermes that this would go alright. He'd need every bit of Hermes's people skills to make it through this alive and unscathed. "Halt," he started carefully, "It's come to my attention that Will has attempted to make amends with everyone in the Corps now. Despite his wound, he's been helping Olympus with repairs for three days now. He personally called up the families of the deceased Rangers, and he's apologized to every Ranger in the Corps with knowledge of what happened. And everyone's made an effort to except it so far. Except you, Halt."

It happened just as Crowley had expected. Halt's eyes narrowed, his stance shifted into a more aggressive one, his hand tightened about the longbow he never ceased to carry with him.

"Gilan told me that Will has made multiple attempts to earn your forgiveness or at least say sorry. You have rebuffed every one of them. And not only that, you've laid all the guilt of the dead Rangers on Will's shoulders, despite how it was Ferris's plans that killed them. Not Will's."

"He could've told-"

"Halt," Crowley said softly, "Will's just a boy. He's not even sixteen. He'd just been betrayed by Ferris. Do you really expect him to automatically trust you enough to tell you? He's shown he's more sorry than words can ever say. He has done everything you've asked of him, but you keep putting him down. He thinks you hate him."

Halt blinked. It was as much emotion as the Ranger seemed willing to show.

"You don't have to be his mentor anymore if you don't want," Crowley said finally after a few seconds of tense silence. "I'll take on his training in your place. But please, at least let him know you don't hate him. He cares about you enough to practically die for you. I don't want your fatal flaw to destroy Will as well as you."

Halt met Crowley's gaze head-on. They just looked at each other, until eventually Halt nodded slowly, seeming to have found what he was looking for. "What does Will think about you training him?"

The Commandant glanced over at Gilan, who refused to meet either Rangers' eyes. "He told me he'd be okay with Crowley."

"But he'd prefer Halt, correct?" Crowley raised an eyebrow at Gilan, who flushed at being caught out and nodded reluctantly.

Halt's expression had gone unreadable once more. Inside, he wondered at how Will would still prefer him over Crowley, the much more pleasant option. Halt had not exactly been welcoming or sympathetic at any point during Will's apprenticeship, especially not recently. He supposed Gilan and Crowley really must be right. Bizarre as it sounded, Will actually must care for him.

And he thought Halt hated him.

"It won't be necessary for you to take charge of Will's apprenticeship. He's my apprentice, after all." Halt thought he saw relief in Crowley's eyes, along with slight disappointment. Will must've grown on Crowley quickly for the Commandant to have been willing to take on another apprentice.

"Good. Well, I have a mound of paperwork still to do on my desk, so I'll be off now." Crowley swept away, leaving only Gilan and Halt. The former made to go away as well, but Halt stopped him with a soft,

"Gilan."

"Yes, Halt?"

Halt hesitated. "Is it true? Does he really think I hate him?"

The sympathy Halt had expected Gilan to direct towards him was strangely absent and the young man stated flatly, "Yes, he does. You haven't exactly given him any reason not to think it."

"I see."

Gilan sighed. "Look, Halt. I know we've never put this into words, but you've been like a second father to me. Will..." he cut off. "Never mind. Just...remember that Will looks up to you a lot, and it hurts him quite a bit to think you wouldn't care if he died."

Halt raised an eyebrow, as much surprise as he'd show. He hadn't thought about how his actions would be received by Will. The part of him that was still angry and hurt over the betrayal wanted Will to continue hurting- to hurt as much as Halt had when he'd first heard those words come out of his brother's mouth. The rest of him recoiled from the thought.

"I'll talk to Will," he promised Gilan. The young Ranger's expression lit up.

"Good. Good, that's good. Tell Will I said hi, would you?" Gilan started away, lifting one hand in farewell as he moved.

Halt stared down at the medbay, glimmering gold in the light of the ever-burning Olympian torches. Then, taking a deep breath, he started towards it.

* * *

 **A/N:** Anyone else going to #ragequit after this chapter? No? I do have good reasons as to why Halt's acting that way, and I do think it's in character for him- I thought about it a lot and I don't think he's the type to forgive easily, and that's in RA when he's not a child of Hades and known for holding grudges.

Anyway, this fic is winding down. This is the second to last chapter. After that, I'll be starting a sequel that combines the BoO series with Burning Bridge/Icebound Land/Battle for Skandia. I don't have anything concrete but I have a lot of ideas, and it'll have a full reconciliation + tons more angst and also more badassery on Will's part. Oh, and Horace, Alyss, and Cassandra will be in it, too, so that'll be cool.


	17. Chapter 17

Halt heard voices even before he was close to the medbay. One was cold and harsh and loud, and it made Halt's jaw tighten. It was a bully's voice, and he had a rather good idea of who was being bullied.

His eyes automatically began to look for the nearest shadow but just before he stepped into it, he recalled his current condition and stopped. Although he wished he could shadow-travel in there unnoticed in order to see without being seen- for any Ranger worth his salt would notice a door being opened, no matter how preoccupied- he wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to do it without collapsing directly afterwards, or even that he'd be able to do it at all. Halt couldn't say he particularly wanted Crowley to yell at him for exhausting himself again.

So with a sigh, Halt stepped up to the golden building and crouched by the door, pressing his ear to it. The door was relatively thin and made of celestial bronze, which was a good sound conductor. Therefore Halt could make out what was going on inside without too much difficulty.

"I've already paid for it," came Will's voice, small and fragile. "I-"

Another voice scoffed. "Community service? For a betrayal that costs us lives? You didn't deserve to be let off so easily! If your master had been a different one, you would never have been pardoned. But no, because it's _Halt-"_ the Ranger practically spat out the name- "you get away with murder and only pay for it by tossing some stones around and spewing out apologies."

"I _am_ sorry," Will said honestly, but choked when he tried to add more. Halt's eyes narrowed. He could picture the scene perfectly: Zion, for it was Zion's voice, was holding Will up by his throat.

"Sorry?" Zion hissed. _"Sorry?_ People _died!_ Rangers died! If you had even an ounce of loyalty in your worthless body, you would understand what you'd done, that an _apology_ doesn't make up for anything!" Will attempted to speak, but all that came out were a bunch of strangled sounds. "You deserve to die for what you've done! And don't think I'm letting you go easily."

A harsh thump. Zion must've let go of Will. The boy remained silent even as Halt heard the sickening sound of kicking, only letting out the barest of whimpers as Zion's foot connected with his ribs.

And that, Halt decided, standing up, was where it was going to have to stop. He'd heard enough. He opened the door soundlessly and slipped in, already putting an arrow to the string of his longbow as he moved. Like he'd predicted, Zion froze instantly. His eyes widened in fear, but he valiantly masked it and gave Halt a welcoming smile.

"Hello, Halt. What brings you here?"

Halt didn't deign to respond to that. He just looked at Zion coolly. Perhaps drew back on the bowstring the tiniest bit.

Zion wasn't stupid. He knew that he had no chance of taking Halt on, so he held up his hands and nudged Will's body out of the way with one foot. Will hadn't moved since Halt had come in, but he saw blood staining the boy's shirt and knew Zion's kicks must've opened his still-healing wound back up again.

"I was just teaching him a lesson," the younger Ranger said quickly, trying to placate his superior. "I figured, after how you acted at his trial, you wouldn't mind."

Halt raised an eyebrow. "'After how I acted'?" he quoted. "I wasn't aware you were at his trial."

Zion looked embarrassed. "Well, no. But we've all heard the rumors, of course."

"Oh? And what would those be?"

Will attempted to get up but fell back on his face with a barely-suppressed groan. Blood was seeping onto the shining, golden floor; Halt needed to get this over with quickly before Will lost too much blood. Thankfully, Zion had the sense not to test Halt's patience. "That you were the one who wanted him killed, and it was the others who stopped you. That you beat him up yourself, and that's why he's in here."

Halt's knuckles whitened about his bow. It was a barely noticeable movement, but Rangers were trained to notice such things and Zion clearly saw, for his expression dropped in dismay.

"Next time," Halt said very slowly and clearly, "Check for yourself whether the rumors are true. Anyone who harms my apprentice answers to me."

"But Halt," Zion said, even though the look on his face spoke that he knew it was a bad idea, "Will is responsible for the deaths of our own Corps members. He has not been judged fairly. I lost one of my closest friends because of him. He deserves worse!"

Halt didn't move. He kept his eyes firmly on his fellow Ranger and said in the same quiet, threatening tone as before, "Will has gotten what he deserves. Yuri's death is a tragedy, but Will was hardly responsible for organizing that attack on Olympus. Was he?"

Zion noticed the arrow was now pointing directly at his calf. "No, but he did hand over valuable information. He is still responsible for that!"

"What information could he possibly have given that would be responsible for killing your friend? It's one thing to identify the senior members of the Corps or to give away the location of the Gathering. But Yuri was not a senior member. Will had no part in killing him."

The younger Ranger snarled, but with another glance at Halt decided not to antagonize the son of Hades any further. Instead he stepped away from Will after one last hateful glance. "I don't agree," he said coldly. "He deserves death after what he has done."

"If you want to harm my apprentice, you will answer to me."

"Then," Zion said darkly, "I suppose I'll have to wait until he's not your apprentice, won't I?"

Halt gave no answer, and after a few seconds Zion realized he wasn't getting one. With a sneer the Ranger moved towards Halt- though it was to be noted it was with great caution, seeing as the great bow was still at half-draw and the arrow still pointed at his leg, following his movements- and brushed past him, slamming the door behind him as he left. Halt waited several seconds to make sure he wasn't coming back before turning to Will.

The apprentice was still curled up in a ball, the blood seeping from his reopened wound staining the golden floor red. Halt wasn't sure if Will was conscious enough to have heard what had just transpired. Halt placed his longbow on the ground within easy reaching distance and knelt next to Will, carefully turning the boy over to get a better look at the wound. It was faintly black around the edges like a burn, and blood poured rapidly from torn sutures. Halt's grim expression deepened further as he beheld it.

"Will? Can you hear me?" The Ranger directed his attention to Will's face, whose cheek was already swelling up with a bruise. The boy's eyes flickered, then slowly opened. He stared at Halt in confusion, then for the briefest instant in fear.

"Why are you here?" The words came out muffled and muddled, but Halt understood their meaning well enough.

"That's not important right now. We need to get your side stitched back up. Is Sol nearby?"

Will hesitated, pain-blurred brain taking far too long to kick into gear. Halt waited impatiently and finally the boy murmured, "Yes. Just left...minutes. Not far."

Halt looked down at the wound once more and deliberated. If he left now, Will could possibly get worse. Although he doubted that the wound was life-threatening, Halt also knew the body was a fickle thing and injuries could turn worse very swiftly. However, Halt wasn't a healer, nor did he have ambrosia. Although he could stitch Will back up, the blackened edges were representative of Stygian iron's lasting effects and, if not taken care of, could turn very bad.

After a moment he decided. Gathering Will up in his arms, he lay the boy down on a bed and went to a nightstand which held medical thread and needles in one of its drawers. With those in hand, he returned to Will and swiftly began to sew the wound back up. Right now the most pressing issue was how much blood Will was losing. If worst came to worst, Sol could simply cut the sutures out and redo them later.

"What...doing?" Will rasped out.

"Sewing your wound. Zion tore it open when he..." Halt trailed off, instead focusing on making neat, precise stitches. It took a few minutes to completely stitch it up and even then Halt had had to use large stitches at times, but finally it was done. Checking to make sure Will was alright (or as alright as he could be at the moment), Halt sped out the door once more.

It took several minutes to find Sol, but finally Halt did. Once he told the son of Apollo about his half-sibling's condition, Sol practically sprinted over to the medbay, leaving Halt to follow behind. Sol's obvious concern over what Halt had told him about the Stygian iron did little to make the son of Hades feel better about Will's condition.

Once they were back inside the medbay, Sol put his hands over the wound and closed his eyes. Halt had seen him heal without words before- it was why he'd asked Will if he could do it, after all- so he wasn't surprised as a bright glow emanated from the Ranger's hands. Sol's energy was so powerful Halt could feel it brush against his skin from several feet away, but for the first time he was abruptly struck by the difference between Will and Sol's healing. The one time Halt had been conscious while being healed by Will, he'd felt Will's energy as bright and clear and strangely vulnerable. In that moment he'd been able to tell what Will was feeling (fear, doubt, guilt he hadn't understood) so very clearly.

Whereas Will's was open and clear, Sol's was scalding heat. There was no vulnerability, no openness. Sol had once said healing didn't come naturally to him, but as the foremost son of Apollo in the Corps, he'd had to take on that responsibility. Sol was best used as an interrogator and manipulator: one simple touch could send almost any enemy falling to their knees or cause them to divulge their darkest secret. Now that Halt had experienced Will's energy, he saw that his apprentice was far better suited for healing than Sol. But as Will was the injured one, there was no choice. Sol had to heal him.

A minute or so later, Sol finally opened his eyes. He looked drained. "The Stygian iron should be out of his system. Ferris's weapon was unnaturally potent, causing slow recovery despite there being less than a quarter of the poison remaining. However, now he should heal far swifter."

Halt nodded, looking over at Will. The boy was still conscious somehow yet hadn't spoken a word, seemingly content to stare up at the ceiling as the two Rangers spoke. _If he's not asking questions,_ Halt thought dryly, _he really must be injured pretty badly._

"How long before he can move about again?"

Sol broke off a piece of ambrosia and fed it to Will, who was still enough out of it to let him. "I will have to see how well he is doing by tomorrow. He lost a sizable amount of blood; although it should not prove life-threatening, he might be weak for a few days. I also do not want him to tear the stitches again." Sol had restitched several portions of the wound Halt had glossed over, with meticulous, tiny stitches that would allow for much less scarring.

Halt nodded. He opened his mouth to speak, but Sol cut over him with a slight frown. "How did this happen, Halt? Surely you did not do this to him yourself?"

"Why does everyone think I want to beat my own apprentice?" Halt asked irritably. "A Ranger who'd lost a friend in the battle got angry with him and tried to kill him."

Sol eyed him for a few seconds. Although his power worked best while in physical contact with the other person, he was still very good at detecting lies even without touch. Finally, he nodded, satisfied. "I assume that Ranger is injured as well, then?"

"No." Halt let a slight tinge of regret into his tone. "I understand why he did it even if I don't agree with it. Beating up and attempting to murder a boy is never honorable, but the pain of losing a close friend can make one do foolish things. And by then, Will had already lost a lot of blood and I had no idea how serious it was. I had to let the Ranger go."

The son of Apollo nodded and glanced once more at his younger sibling. "I shall take my leave," he told Halt. "If anything happens or his condition worsens, you know where to find me."

Halt dipped his head. The next moment, Halt and Will were alone.

The old Ranger turned his gaze once more to his young apprentice, who was now staring directly at him with the same look of confusion Halt had seen earlier. "What's the matter?" Halt asked gruffly.

Will attempted to sit up but visibly winced, mouth opening in a silent cry of pain. Somewhere in the back of Halt's brain he thought how odd it was that Will had made no audible sound of pain other than when Zion had kicked him the first time. Will fell back again, but Halt's hands steadied him, carefully lowering him back down into a more comfortable position.

"Why are you here?" Will asked after a moment. His eyes were curious and perhaps the slightest bit accusing.

"I heard raised voices and thought something must be going on. I came in just in time to see you getting beat up."

"Oh." Halt hadn't even realized there had been hope in Will's expression until it was suddenly drained of that emotion. "Well...I'm fine now. You don't...you can leave now. If you want."

Halt gave him a measured look. "Last time I checked, bleeding all over the floor doesn't constitute 'fine.'" Will flushed. "I told Sol I'd watch over you in case things took a turn for the worse. I don't want my apprentice dying on me, after all."

The hope came back into Will's eyes. "I'm still your apprentice? You'll still take me back even after..."

"Giving you a new master was never an option. Crowley would spoil you rotten."

Will heaved a tiny, relieved laugh that was cut short by another wince.

"Go to sleep now. You need to heal."

Will smiled. "G'night, Halt."

"Good night, Will."

* * *

It took two days before Will was well enough to move around once more; weeks after that before he was pronounced fully healed. The Stygian iron had affected him terribly, probably because the Underworld with its darkness and death was so very different from Apollo's sunlight. Even with ambrosia, the scar the wound had left was vicious. Although it would serve forever as a badge of honor, Will didn't really like to go shirtless anymore.

Will and Halt spent three more weeks in Olympus, assisting with repairs. After that, the two finally bid farewell to Crowley and his helpers and began the journey back to Pennsylvania.

They were mostly silent on the way back, and unlike other times, this silence wasn't entirely comfortable. There still resided a sizable gap between Will and his master, one borne both by lack of total forgiveness and lack of trust. Will had been walking on eggshells around Halt for weeks now, and his heart sank as he realized it wasn't likely to change in the foreseeable future. In the first place, the bond between him and Halt was not as strong as it could've been, had Will not been burdened by guilt and refusing to speak to Halt unless absolutely necessary. And now that what tentative trust and caring there had been was shattered...

Will glanced over at Halt, whose gaze was as grim and focused as ever, and sighed. He didn't know if he'd ever be able to repair the damage he had wrought. He didn't even know if Halt would let him.

But as they rode, wind whipping at their hair and mottled cloaks, the sun began to rise. And Will decided he'd take it as a new beginning for himself and for Halt. Because now it wasn't about what happened if he couldn't do something. Now it was about what he could do: fix things, repair broken relationships.

And so he gazed at the sun and decided that this time, he would do better.

* * *

 **A/N:** And thus ends The Rangers of Apollo. Thank you to everyone who has read and commented on it.

About the sequel I said I'd do, I started writing it and I think I'll actually leave the story to end here. I tried to plan it out, but it just wasn't as interesting as I thought it'd be and I see no point in writing something that serves no purpose except to assuage my boredom. If that's all it's doing, I can just write it in word docs. There's no need to post something online unless I think it'll actually benefit others in some way.  
So I believe the story will end here. It's bittersweet, but so is life at many points. In a world filled with flawed individuals, forgiveness is hard to come by- at least, true and real forgiveness. It's a long and hard process, especially when the trust built into that relationship is also torn away. But it can eventually be accomplished, and I hope I conveyed that in the last scene.


	18. Chapter 18

Hey so, long time no see. Remember how I said I wasn't gonna be continuing this?

Psyche.

I'm actually thinking about at least writing a oneshot of Will telling Halt the full story about Ferris + Halt finally forgiving Will. In addition, that sequel I mentioned - the cross-over of Icebound Land and Heroes of Olympus - is actually looking really appealing to me right now. However, since it's been like...a year...since the completion of this fic, I hesitate to actually post the sequel _now._ Is there anyone who'd still be interested in reading one of those two fics? I'm gonna write them anyway, but I won't post them if no one wants them lol.


	19. You Might Want To Read This

Hey guys, I'm back again. I just published the first chapter of the sequel, The Warriors of Tartarus. Like I said previously, this fic will feature hurt/comfort, some heckin' good plot, Will and Halt being bamf, and maybeeee something in the romance department. ;)

I'm honestly not sure how links work in FF, but here's the link to it:

s/12965553/1/The-Warriors-of-Tartarus

Thank you so much for reading this fic! If you've chosen to read my sequel, thank you so much. It means a lot. If not, I'm still so grateful you cared enough to read this far.


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